THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SIDNEY    TEACHING   SITARA. 


THE 


BISHOP'S  CONVERSION 


BY 

ELLEN  BLACKMAR  MAXWELL 


WITH 

AN  INTRODUCTION 

By    JAMES     M.     THOBURN 

Missi'jiiarv  Ilishop  for  India  and  Malaysia 


NEW  YORK:   HUNT  &  EATON 

CINCINNATI-  CRANSTON  &  CURTS 

1893 


Copyright,  1892.  l>y 

HUNT    &    EATON, 

NEW  YORK. 


TO 

ALLAN    JAMES    MAXWELL. 


"And  indeed  he  seems  to  me 
Scarce  other  than  my  own  ideal  knight, 
Who  reverenced  his  conscience  as  his  king; ; 
Whose  glory  was  redressing  human  wrong; 
Who  spoke  no  slander,  no,  nor  listened  to  it ; 
Wlio  loved  one  only  and  who  clave  to  her — 

We  have  lost  him  :  he  is  gone  : 

We  know  him  now  :  all  narrow  jealousies 
Are  silent :  and  we  see  him  as  he  moved. 
How  modest,  kindly,  all  accomplished,  wise; 
With  what  sublime  repression  of  himself, 
Not  swaying  to  this  facti  m  or  to  that  ; 
Not  making  his  high  place  the  lawless  perch 
Of  winged  ambitions,  iv  r  a  vantage-ground 
For  pleasure  :  but  through  all  this  tract  of  years 
Wearing  the  white  flower  of  a  blameless  life." 

—  Tennyson. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

SIDNEY  TEACHING  SITARA FRONTISPIECE 

A  NATIVE  "WATER-DRAWER 45 

THE  LANGUAGES  OF  INDIA 62 

EMPLOYES  OF  A  MISSION  PUBLISHING  HOUSE 68 

A  STREET  IN  THE  NATIVE  CITY 78 

IN  THE  COOK  HOUSE 104 

SlTARA 132 

THE  GARDEN  PARTY 164 

RUINS  OF  THE  RESIDENCY,  LUCKNOW 176 

GROUP  OF  FOUR  PICTURES.     "A  NATIVE  PUEACIII:I;,''   "AYAH," 

"  YOUNG  BOY,"  "  NATIVE  WOMAN  " 192 

A  HINDOO  TEMPLE 232 

NAINI  TAL.     AMONC  THE  HILLS 256 

A  CHURCH  FOR  ENGLISH-SPEAKING  PEOI-L:: 205 

MOHAMMEDAN  ARCHITECTURE 328 

MRS.  CLINTON  AND  LILLIAN  IN  A  ZENANA 346 

A  GIRLS'  SCHOOL..  .  370 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I.  PAGE 

THE  PLAY.  .  11 


CHAPTER  II. 
THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKNO\V  ...............................     23 

CHAPTER  IH. 
LKR  AND  SHAWL  MKRCIIANT  ...........................     44 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   MISSIONARY  PRINTING  PHKSS.  .  69 


CHAPTER  V. 
IN  THE  BA/AI:.  .  73 


CHAPTER  vi. 

OPENING  lIorsi-:KKKiM\(;. . .  91 


CI1AI.TEII  VII. 
VISITING  MISSION AI;II-:S.  .  ....   112 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
MAKING  CALLS.,  .  .   135 


CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  STORY  OF  SITARA..  .  145 


CHAPTER  X. 

TlIK    VISIT    OP    THE   PUINCE..  .    162 


6  CONTENTS  . 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  TALUKDAR'S  RECEPTION.  .  .  180 


CHAPTER  XII. 
HOUSEKEEPING  CARES .  1 98 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  MAHABIR  MELA..,  .  218 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
IN  THE  ZENANAS 248 

CHAPTER  XV. 

SlTARA..  .    275 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
DANGEROUS  ENEMIES .  295 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
ROKEWOOD'S  ILLNESS..  .   307 


CHAPTER.  XVII I. 
CARXTON  AND  SIDNEY .  827 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
SMALLPOX .  343 


CHAPTER  XX. 
HOME  AGAIN .   360 


INTRODUCTION. 


IT  lias  long  been  a  cause  of  regret  to  missionaries  in 
the  foreign  field  that  people  at  home  seemed  so 
prone  to  form  incorrect  ideas,  both  of  their  method 
of  work  and  style  of  living.  Many  honest  and  earnest 
attempts  have  been  made  to  correct  the  false  impres 
sions  which  have  become  current,  both  in  England 
and  America,  but  these  have  not  always  proved  suc 
cessful.  The  root  of  the  difficulty  is  found  in  the  fact 
that  most  persons  measure  all  conditions  of  life  and 
labor  by  the  same  standard  without  making  allowance 
for  the  thousand  points  of  difference  which  must  pre 
vail  between  people  and  countries  so  radically  differ 
ent  as  those  found  in  the  Oriental  and  Occidental 
worlds.  To  this  must  be  added  the  fact  that  for  two 
generations  past  a  false  ideal  of  missionary  character 
and  missionary  work  lias  been  devoutly  cherished  both 
in  England  and  America.  The  missionary  is  very 
much  like  other  good  men.  His  work  is  a  very  prac 
tical  work,  and  all  romantic  ideals,  or  exasperated 

*  '  OO 

ideas  of  angelic  perfection,  must  be  thrown  to  the 
winds  by  the  practical  observer  who  wishes  to  get  a 
correct  view  of  missionary  life  as  it  is. 

Mrs.  Maxwell  has  seen  much  and  has  served  well  in 
the  missionary  field,  and  has  well  earned  a  right  to  be 


IMTKODLTT.OX. 

heard  on  the  subject  which  she  has  chosen.  Itibteatl 
of  discussing  in  an  abstract  manner  the  various  phases 
of  her  subject,  she  has  wisely  chosen  to  bring  it  in  a 
more  practical  way  before  her  readers  by  introducing 
scenes  from  actual  life,  which  illustrate  the  most  im 
portant  phases  of  missionary  life  as  she  has  seen  it. 
Many  of  the  incidents  used  in  the  course  of  her  story 
are  recitals  of  actual  occurrences,  and  are  by  no  means 
the  creation  of  the  imagination  alone.  Such  a  pres 
entation  of  various  views  of  missionary  life  and 
labor  can  hardly  fail  to  do  much  good,  not  only  in 
correcting  false  impressions,  but  in  creating  better 
views  and  more  healthy  feelings  among  a  large  class 
of  good  Christian  people  who  are  numbered  among 
the  supporters  of  missions.  Detached  statements  of 
fact  can  never  be  made  to  impress  the  average  mind 
of  reading  people  so  vividly  or  forcibly  as  pictures 
drawn  from  actual  life,  and  especially  when  drawn  by 
one  present  at  the  scene  of  action. 

Practical  missionaries  have  nothing  to  fear  and 
much  to  hope  from  a  truthful  presentation  of  their 
work  to  the  Christian  public.  It  is  a  work  which 
will  bear  inspection,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  to 
the  point  to  say  that  it  demands  inspection.  Chris 
tian  people  in  America  should  make  it  a  matter  of 
personal  duty  to  acquaint  themselves  with  everything 
that  pertains  to  this,  the  leading  enterprise  of  the 
coming  century,  the  most  sacred  enterprise  of  all 
centuries.  The  prosecution  and  completion  of  this 
task  is  the  supreme  duty  which  our  Saviour  has  in 
trusted  to  his  people  everywhere — a  task  which  takes 
precedence  of  every  other,  and  must  hold  its  prece 
dence  until  the  kingdoms  and  nations  of  earth  shall 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

all  have  bowed  to  the  scepter  of  our  great  Iminannel. 
All  the  Churches,  the  Church  universal,  are  awaking, 
late,  it  is  true,  but  none  the  less  certainly,  to  a  sense 
of  a  long-neglected  duty  and  an  appreciation  of  a 
long-rejected  opportunity.  In  the  new  and  brighter 
era  just  at  hand  no  intelligent  Christian  will  be  able 
to  afford  to  live  in  ignorance  of  the  true  character  of 
the  great  missionary  movement  among  the  nations. 
Indeed,  no  such  Christian  can  afford  to  live  in  igno 
rance  of  this  movement  in  this  closing  decade  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  and  the  need  of  a  copious  and  ac 
curate  missionary  literature  has  never  been  greater 
than  at  the  present  hour. 

It  so 'happens  that  at  the  present  time  India  is  the 
most  prominent  of  the  great  mission  fields  of  the 
world,  and  it  is  therefore  fitting  that  Mrs.  Maxwell 
should  have  chosen  that  great  empire  as  the  field  from 
which  to  draw  her  illustrations.  In  many  important 
respects,  however,  these  sketches  will  be  found  to 
represent  faithfully  scenes'  in  China  and  other  fields. 
All  missions  to  non-Christian  countries  possess  many 
important  features  in  common.  The  missionary's 
problems  in  one  country  reappear  in  another,  and 
hence  all  foreign  missionaries  are  drawn  together 
when  they  meet  as  if  by  the  bonds  of  family  relation 
ship.  To  defend  and  help  one  is  to  hold  up  the  weary 
arms  of  a  hundred  others.  It  may  confidently  be 
hoped,  therefore,  that  Mrs.  Maxwell's  effort  to  speak 
a  word  for  her  fellow-workers  in  India  will  prove  of 
great  service  to  all  workers  in  all  lands  who  belong  to 
the  great  and  growing  host  of  foreign  missionaries. 

August  \1,  1892.  J.    M.    TlIOBCRN. 


THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TIIK     FLAX. 

IT  was  a  cozy  breakfast  room,  cozy  as  can  bo  known 
only  by  those  fortunate  people  wlio  live  where 
gleaming  frost  and  snow  out  of  doors  make  it  possible 
to  have  bright  fires,  warm  curtains,  soft  cushions, 
and  thick  carpets  indoors.  True,  it  was  only  October, 
but  a  fire,  though  not  necessary,  added  to  the  creature 
comfort,  and,  as  Mrs.  Clinton  said,  "gave  expression 
to  a  room."  Perhaps  the  room  had  an  expression 
without  the  fire  ;  if  it  had,  that  expression  was  clearly 
elegance,  modified  by  good  taste  and  economy. 

Harmonizing  well  with  the  room  were  Bishop 
Clinton,  well-looking,  portly,  and  comfortable,  reading 
his  foreign  mail  with  his  coffee,  and  Mrs.  Clinton,  a 
quick-thinking,  slight,  nervous,  typical  American 
woman,  whose  ambition  outran  her  energy. 

The  Bishop  looked  across  the  white  linen  and  dainty 
breakfast  service  and  said,  folding  a  London  religious 

'  O  O 

paper : 

"My  dear,  this  talk  of  luxury  and  ineffectual  work 
among  missionaries  in  India  is  really  doing  the  cause 
much  harm.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  throw  myself 


12  Tun   r>isnoi>'s 

into  tlie  breach,  and  put  a  stop  cither  to  the  talk  or  to 
the  cause  of  it.  I  could  go  on  to  India  after  finishing 
the  work  in  Europe." 

"Yes ;  it  might  be  a  very  good  thing  to  do  if  travel 
ing  were  not  so  very  expensive,"  said  she. 

"  Still,  if  I  were  to  go  part  of  the  way  very  cheaply 
it  might  be  feasible,  and  it  would  give  me  a  chance 
to  speak  with  authority  to  our  people  here.  I  might 
also  be  of  great  service  to  the  missionaries  themselves, 
for  no  doubt  they  are  seriously  at  fault,  though  I  do 
not  credit  all  that  is  said.  Certainly  the  heroic  spirit 
has  died  out  of  missions,  and  there  must  be  some  bad 
management,  some  want  of  economy  of  time  and 
money,  else  no  one  would  dare  make  such  assertions 
as  are  being  made  and  printed  everywhere.  Even 
the  secular  papers,  glad  of  the  opportunity,  are  taking 
it  up  and  making  much  of  "the  failure  of  missions," 
as  they  call  it,  through  the  mistakes  and  failures  of 
missionaries." 

Mrs.  Clinton's  eyes  had  a  suspicious  flash,  and  a 
wave  of  color  went  over  her  face  as  she  said  with  some 
acrimony  in  her  tones : 

"  What  very  stupid  people  the  missionary  secre 
taries  must  be  to  choose  unfaithful  and  unwise  men 
to  send  out  on  such  important  work  !  However,  they 
must  be  wise  in  some  lines,  else  they  would  not  be 
able  to  live  in  luxury  on  the  pitiful  allowance  they  re 
ceive.  I  would  be  very  glad  to  live  a  luxurious  life 
on  our  allowance,  which  is  many  times  greater  than 
theirs,  if  I  only  knew  ho\v." 

"Why,  my  dear,  my  dear!"  said  the  Bishop,  in 
mild  astonishment,  "  it  is  not  a  case  that  calls  for  such 
s'rong  feeling  ;  and,  besides,  you  underrate  their  allow- 


THE  PLAN.  13 

ance,  which  is  much  better  than  many  poor  ministers 
have  in  our  own  land/' 

"  Allow  me  to  say  that  I  think  it  is  a  case  that  calls  for 
some  feeling,"  she  said,  referring  to  the  first  part  of  his 
remark;  "for  I  have  been  tortured  beyond  endurance 
during  the  last  three  months  on  this  very  line.  The 
letters  of  inquiry  I  have  received  as  secretary  of  our 
branch,  and  the  questions  I  have  had  to  answer  in  re 
gard  to  this  matter  have  worn  my  patience  to  shreds ; 
for  instance :  '  Is  it  true  the  missionaries'  wives  have 
silk  dresses  2 '  '  Is  it  true  they  keep  more  than  two  serv 
ants  ? '  *  Is  it  true  that  they  have  men  stand  about  with 
fans,  fanning  them  when  they  are  doing  nothing? ' 
And  allow  me  to  say  that  I  do  not  understate  the 
facts  as  to  their  allowance ;  when  Em  was  here  last 
winter  on  the  way  to  Michigan  with  her  children  .she 
made  out  a  statement  for  me  of  their  exact  expenses. 
Their  allowance  is,  as  you  say,  better  than  many  a  min 
ister's;  but  out  of  it  they  pay  first  a  large  income  tax 
to  the  English  government.  Most  of  them  keep  up 
some  sort  of  life-insurance,  as  life  is  so  uncertain  they 
do  not  know  what  day  their  families  may  be  thrown 
on  their  own  resources,  and  the  wife,  with  broken 
health,  is  in  no  condition  to  earn  a  living;  so  that 
leaves  them  still  less.  But  first,  before  any  of  these 
other  items  are  taken  out,  they  subtract  a  tenth. 
There  seems  to  be  an  unwritten  law  among  mission 
aries  that  all  shall  give  a  tithe  of  their  allowance  to 
the  work;  many  of  them  give  much  more,  but  they 
start  with  a  tenth.  Then  they  must  send  their  chil 
dren  here  to  be  educated,  and  the  allowance  for  each 
child  is  not  enough  to  support  it  a  year  in  school  away 
from  home,  whatever  may  be  done  by  economical 


14  TIIK  BISHOI-'JS  CONVERSION. 

people  at  home ;  you  and  I  certainly  understand 
that" 

"  Yes ; "  and  tlie  Bishop  sighed  as  he  thought  of  the 
sum  that  his  two  boys,  who  were  in  a  good  plain  college 
and  living  plainly,  were  needing  each  month  for  books 
and  clothing  and  board,  etc.;  "yes,"  he  said,  "it  is 
impossible  to  do  it  without  money.  I  suppose,  how 
ever,  the  missionary,  who  is  usually  a  man  of  educa 
tion,  might  educate  his  own  boys  out  there." 

"  I  suggested  this  to  Em,  but  she  said  there  are  not 
five  undisturbed  minutes  in  the  day  that  the  missionary 
or  his  wife  can  rely  upon.  Many  have  tried,  in  order 
not  to  be  separated  from  their  children,  but  it  always 
has  ended  in  their  work  being  given  up  or  in  the 
utter  failure  of  the  little  ones  to  learn  anything.  Be 
sides,  it  is  difficult  for  the  children  to  keep  in  health 
after  they  are  three  or  four  years  of  age  in  that  cli 
mate;  and  worse  even  than  poor  health  was  the  dis 
advantage  of  bringing  them  up  in  a  place  where  all 
manual  labor,  even  by  the  poorest,  is  considered  de 
grading.  It  leads  them  to  form  wrong  estimates  of 
life  and  unfits  them  for  usefulness." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  wherever  the  cooly  inter 
venes  between  the  European  and  manual  labor  it  is  a 
great  misfortune  to  the  European,  though  it  may  be 
bread  in  the  cooly's  mouth.  But  if  all  this  is  true, 
what  of  Canon  Taylor  and  his  utterances,  those 
scathing  articles  in  Truth,  this  continual  warfare  in 
Hughes's  paper,  and  these  statements  in  the  English 
papers  by  this  returned  missionary  of  the  name  of 
Lynn  or  Lion  ? " 

"  But,"  Mrs.  Clinton  asked,  "  how  can  Canon  Tay 
lor  or  the  editor  of  Truth  say  in  what  manner  mission- 


THE  PLAN.  15 

aries  ought  to  live  ?  It  must  be  much  the  same  with 
them  as  with  other  people,  though  there  seems  to  be 
some  sort  of  an  idea  afloat  that  they  might  subsist 
on  roots  and  herbs  and  be  clothed  with  the  grass  of 
the  field." 

This  was  said  with  asperity. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Bishop,  with  pronounced  as 
tonishment,  "  I  am  surprised  to  hear  you  speak  in  this 
manner.  You  really  might  be  said  to  be — ah — nearly 
out  of  temper." 

"Xcarly?  I  am  quite  out  of  temper.  I  always 
hear  much  nonsense  talked  of  missions,  but  I  have  heard 
so  much  more  than  usual  in  the  last  two  months  while 
you  have. been  away  that  I  have  been  out  of  temper 
several  times.  Only  yesterday  I  asked  Mrs.  Long, 
who  has  thousands  of  dollars  to  spend  on  herself  with 
out  ever  giving  an  account  to  anyone,  for  a  subscrip 
tion  for  our  Moradabad  school  work,  and  she  said, 
*  I  really  think  I  cannot  give  anything  this  year. 
Xellie's  bills  at  Long  Branch  and  Jim's  yacht  have 
cost  me  so  much,  and  I  hear  that  the  missionaries  live 
like  nawabs  or  nabobs  or  something  of  that  sort,  and 
of  course  luxury  as  well  as  charity  should  begin  at 
home.'  Think  of  that  when  she  spends  on  one  re 
ception  more  than  a  missionary's  whole  allowance ! 
And  another,  Mrs.  Merrale,  who  has  dozens  of  silk 
dresses,  said,  when  I  asked  her  for  her  usual  subscrip 
tion,  '  Really  I  do  not  see  much  necessity  for  help 
ing  missionaries.  The  one  who  called  here  with 
you  last  winter  had  on  a  black  silk  dress  far  better 
than  mine.  I  must  say  I  do  not  feel  like  subscrib 
ing  for  silk  gowns  for  missionaries.'  Then  I  had  to 
explain  that  I  gave  the  dress  to  the  lady  she  referred 


10  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

to  (it  was  Em,  you  know),  because  she  had  no  dress  fit 
to  make  visits  in  ;  that  she  was  my  cousin  ;  that  if  she 
had  not  been  supporting  two  or  three  poor  children 
and  sending  them  to  school  in  India  she  could  have 
bought  it  herself  with  her  own  money,  as  she  has  a 
little  ;  that  I  gave  her  a  silk  in  preference  to  anything 
else  because  it  would  last  longer  and  be  more  serv 
iceable,  and  that  her  subscription  was  not  to  help 
missionaries,  but  to  support  mission  work.  I  knew  I 
was  wasting  my  breath  and  getting  hot  and  losing  my 
temper  all  to  no  purpose.  She  had  seen  a  silk  dress 
on  a  missionary,  and  that  was  enough !  " 

Looking  at  the  flushed  face,  as  fair  to  him  now  as  it 
had  been  twenty  years  before,  the  Bishop  could  easily 
believe  the  reference  to  losing  her  temper,  and,  though 
he  made  a  practice  of  showing  surprise  when  it  did 
occur,  he  did  not  really  mind  it,  because  he  noticed 
it  was  always  when  championing  some  other  person's 
cause,  and  never  for  anything  related  to  herself ;  for, 
after  the  custom  of  American  men,  he  valued  his 
wife  as  a  partner  in  the  councils  of  the  family,  and 
trusted  her  judgment,  believing  that  there  was  never 
a  cleverer  or  more  sensible  woman  than  she ;  and  he 
was  more  justified  in  his  opinion  than  men  always  are. 

The  Bishop  finally  broke  the  silence  that  had  fol 
lowed  by  saying : 

"  I  really  must  see  if  I  cannot  extend  my  tour.  A 
few  weeks  of  extra  travel  would  do  it,  and  with  a 
month  in  which  to  observe  the  various  mission  stations 
the  trip  would,  I  fancy,  be  altogether  quite  satisfac 
tory  ;  and  I  am  necessarily  away  from  you  all  so  much 
of  the  time  that  it  will  be  no  added  sacrifice." 

31  rs.  Clinton  sighed  in  mock  despair. 


THE  PL  AX.  17 

"  I  should  like  to  have  Em  hear  you  say  that.  The 
one  complaint  when  she  talks  of  India,  and  the  only 
one  she  ever  makes,  is  that  people — bishops  and  tour 
ists  interested  in  missions — only  go  there  for  the  few 
months  of  cold  weather,  when  the  climate  is  really 
delightful.  She  said  a  native  of  India  might  as  well 
try  to  judge  of  the  rigor  of  a  Vermont  winter  by  spend 
ing  the  month  of  June  in  an  apple  orchard  as  for  a 
tourist  rushing  through  India  in  January  to  try  to 
describe  the  climate  of  India.  No ;  if  you  go,  and  wi.-h 
really  to  be  of  service  to  the  mission,  you  should  stay 
a  year,  through  all  the  changing  seasons,  and  then  you 
will  be  able  to  speak  with  authority,  not  only  of  the 
climate  and  the  needs  of  the  work,  but  of  the  work 
itself.  What  glorious  missionary  speeches  one  could 
make  after  a  year  of  Indian  life  !  " 

The  Bishop  smiled.  lie  often  smiled  at  his  wife's 
enthusiasms,  and  he  had  classed  her  missionary  zeal  and 
knowledge  as  among  them,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  he  found  the  latter  useful  for  reference.  He  had 
no  time  himself  tojook  really  into  mission  work,  though 
it  had  been  an  early  dream  of  his  to  be  a  missionary 
in  India.  When,  therefore,  through  indifferent  health 
that  idea  had  to  be  given  up  and  relegated  forever  to 
the  land  of  dreams,  it  was  a  great  disappointment.  But 
he  had  always  kept  up  that  dreamy  way  of  looking  at 
missions  as  though  they  were  the  romance  of  the 
church  work,  and  not  to  be  taken  seriously  or  in  a 
business  way. 

"I  wish,"  he  said,  "you  could  go  also,  but  I  fear 
that  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  The  expense  even  for 
my  tour  will  be  an  unheard-of  extravagance,  and  as 
for  remaining  a  year,  it  is  Utopian  in  the  extreme." 


IS  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION*. 

But  Mrs.  Clinton  M*as  thinking  rapidly  and  to  a 
purpose,  and  the  beginning  of  her  thought  was  this  : 
u  If  missionaries  can  live  on  their  allowance  why 
cannot  other  people  do  the  same  ? " 

After  a  little  silence  she  arose,  and  in  a  little  ex 
citement  went  around  to  her  husband. 

"  If  we  three  were  to  go,  Lillian,  you,  and  I,  and 
live  as  missionaries  for  one  year — that  would  be  the 
only  way  to  test  the  matter  fairly — we  could  afford 
it  easily,  and  perhaps  it  might  be  a  matter  of  econ 
omy." 

"  Nonsense,"  was  the  answer.  lie  had  faith  in  her 
judgment,  but  not  to  that  extent. 

"Not  nonsense  at  all.  Bridget,  with  her  wages  and 
board,  and  what  she  breaks  and  loses,  costs  me  my 
share  of  missionary  allowance,  and  Tim  and  the  horse 
cost  your  share  to  begin  with.  The  clothes  Lillian 
and  I  have  now  would  do  very  well  out  there,  where 
as  we  should  be  obliged  to  have  a  new  stock  here. 
Then,  you  know,  it  would  give  Lillian  the  sea  voyage 
that  Dr.  Hunter  suggested  for  her  the  other  day  ;  and 
besides,"  dropping  her  voice  a  little,  "  we  could  have 
a  chance  of  getting  acquainted  with  each  other  again, 
for  since  you  have  had  ecclesiastical  honors  I  never 
really  see  you." 

The  Bishop  rubbed  his  head  thoughtfully.  The 
statement  that  the  missionary's  family  lived  on  what 
their  one  woman  servant  and  her  son,  who  looked 
after  the  cow  and  horse  and  garden,  cost  them, 
caught  his  attention,  and  he  was  revolving  it  in  his 
mind.  It  struck  him  as  bein^  rather  strange  that  he 

o  o 

•\vas  going  out  to  check  the  extravagance  of  people  who 
were  doing  that.     There  was  something  wrong  some- 


THE  PLAN.  19 

where.  Surely  lie  and  liis  family  had  never  been 
extravagant.  In  fact,  they  had  lived  much  more  sim 
ply  than  most  of  their  friends,  because  they  had  been 
obliged  to  do  so.  But  if  Bridget,  Tim,  and  the  horse 
and  cow  \vere  given  up,  and  the  house  let  for  a  year 
to  some  friends  who  had  only  the  day  before  asked 
him  to  find  a  furnished  house  in  that  vicinity  for 
them,  and  Lillian's  school  bills  saved,  for  she  was  in 
a  private  day-school — surely,  if  this  were  all  done,  the 
plan  so  suddenly  thought  of  looked  feasible ;  and  be 
sides  there  was  a  snug  little  bank  account  that  could 
be  drawn  on  in  case  of  necessity.  Another  thing,  his 
wife  as  well  as  Lillian  would  profit  by  the  change, 
and  he  looked  at  her  rather  remorsefully,  for  it  struck 
him  all  at  once  that  though  he  had  made  many  tours, 
and  had  even  crossed  the  Atlantic,  she  had  never  once 
gone  for  a  pleasure  trip.  She  had  been  tied  to  the 
children,  who  had  required  a  great  deal  of  care,  to  her 
committee  work,  and  her  missionary  meetings;  but 
now,  as  the  two  boys  were  at  college,  there  was  only 
Lillian  left  at  home,  and  she  was  not  considered 
strong,  he  thought,  with  a  pang. 

"  Yes,"  he  cried  aloud,  with  almost  boyish  glee, 
"  yes,  it  can  be  done — that  is,  if  the  brethren  make 
no  objections;  and  if  the  European  work  can  be  ar 
ranged  with  them,  as  I  think  it  can,  we  will  go  as 
soon  after  the  holidays  as  possible." 

Now,  like  a  woman,  Mrs.  Clinton  veered  straight 
around  and  was  ready  to  back  out  of  it  all. 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  any  good  in  going.  I 
know  well  enough  that  the  missionaries  are  hard 
working,  wise-plan ning,  conscientious  people,  and  I 
don't  believe  the  missionary  secretaries  are  idiots,  as 


20  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION; 

they  certainly  would  be  if  they  sent  any  other  than 
hard-working  and  self-denying  people,  and  it  is  their 
work  to  look  into  the  matter,  and  not  ours.  And 
then  besides,  if  India  is  so  unhealthfnl  as  people  say, 
it  is  no  place  to  take  Lillian." 

The  Bishop  only  answered  the  last  objection : 
"You  know  the  doctor  said  that  it  is  the  severe 
winter  here  which  is  hard  on  Lillian,  and  that  she 
would  be  better  in  a  warm  climate.  My  dear,  I  have 
settled  it ;  we  will  go  for  our  own  sakes  as  well  as  for 
the  missionary  cause." 

And  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room  with  his 
hands  behind  him,  humming, 

"From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 
From  India's  coral  strand," 

as  his  heart  swelled  with  the  thought  of  pacing  India's 
coral  strand  and  sitting  under  the  shade  of  the  palm. 

"  "Well,  if  I  go  there  is  one  thing  I  want  to  stipu 
late — one  thing  which  you  must  promise." 

"  What  is  it'? "  absently. 

"  That  M"e  in  all  things  follow  the  custom  of  the 
missionaries,  as  far  as  expense  is  involved." 

"  Certainly,  certainly  !  How  else  could  we  afford 
to  go  ? " 

"  And  as  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  experience  in 
the  matter,  and  have  acquired  a  great  deal  of  in 
formation  on  the  subject,  you  will  not  object  to  the 
suggestions  I  make  in  regard  to  finances,  provided  1 
can  show  you  they  are  founded  on  my  knowledge  of 
facts." 

"Of  course  not;  why  should  I?"  with  a  little  un 
necessary  energy. 


THE  PLAN.  21 

Mrs.  Clinton  repressed  a  smile  as  she  turned  away. 

The  first  time  she  made  a  "suggestion  founded  on 
her  knowledge  of  facts  "  was  in  regard  to  the  selection 
of  a  steamer.  The  Bishop  chose  one  of  a  favorite  line 
as  being  the  safest,  quickest,  and  most  comfortable ; 
but  his  wife  checked  him. 

"  0,  no  !  "  she  said,  in  surprise ;  "  these  points,  of 
course,  are  to  be  considered,  but  we  must  find  the 
cheapest.  I  see  the  one  on  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mil 
ton  sailed  last  year — you  remember  we  went  to  see 
them  off,  and  you  said  it  was  very  comfortable  in 
deed — sails  just  at  the  time  we  had  decided  on  go 
ing." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  he  said,  dryly  ;  "  it  was  slow, 
and  not  very  cjean,  and  there  were  a  lot  of  cattle  on 
board.  I  am  a  bad  sailor,  and  need  as  quick  and  com 
fortable  a  passage  as  possible." 

"I  know,  but  there  were  several  bad  sailors  in  the 
missionary  party,  and  when  I  spoke  of  this  I  was  told 
by  some  one  in  authority  that  it  was  much  better  than 
the  old  missionaries  had  who  went  around  Cape  Horn, 
and  I  ought  to  be  thankful  they  had  so  good  a  way 
to  go." 

There  was  a  quiver  about  her  lips  as  she  said  this, 
and  she  turned  her  face  away  so  that  when  her  hus 
band  looked  inquiringly  at  her  he  only  saw  the  back 
of  her  head.  lie  was  not  quite  sure  that  lie  had  not 
been  that  "someone  in  authority." 

"However,"  she  went  on,  "the  missionaries  them 
selves  did  not  complain.  In  fact,  Mr.  Milton  said  he 
was  glad  to  go  as  cheaply  as  possible,  even  if  it  were 
uncomfortable,  as  there  would  be  so  much  more  saved 
for  the  work." 


22  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  There  is  another  reason  why  I  wish  to  take  a  fast 
steamer.  We  must  see  London  and  Paris  and  Rome, 
and  other  places,"  lie  said,  ignoring  her  remarks. 

"But  the  missionaries  are  discouraged  from  doing 
this.  It  costs  time  and  money  to  go  sight-seeing.  We 
must  go  straight  to  the  field,  for  if  we  loiter  on  the 
way  it  will  be  a  bad  example  for  them,  and  you  re 
member  your  promise." 

I  will  not  eay  that  the  Bishop  regretted  his  promise, 
or  that  he  regretted  it  far  more  before  he  landed  in 
Liverpool,  or  that  he  absolutely  hated  the  thought  of 
it  before  he  reached  India.  Let  those  who  suffer 
from  seasickness,  and  who  know  what  the  difference 
to  them  is  between  a  clean  ship,  well-cooked  and  well- 
served  food,  and  the  exact  opposite,  say. 

And  as  for  Mrs.  Clinton,  who  also  was  a  bad  sailor, 
it  is  on  record  that  she  considered  it  even  a  harder  way 
of  helping  the  missionary  society  than  begging  sub 
scriptions  from  wealthy  church  members  or  holding 
bazars  aiid  fancy  fail's. 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LUOKNOW.  23 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  ARRIVAL    AT    LUCKXOW. 

IT  was  about    nine  o'clock  one   February  evening 
when  the  train  which  brought  the  Bishop  and  Mrs. 
Clinton  and  Lillian  up  from  Bombay,  slowly  and  de 
liberately,  after  the  manner  of  Indian  trains,  moved 
into  Lucknow. 

The  station  "was  well  lighted,  but  the  lights  gleamed 

O  s  O  O 

coldly  through  the  bine  smoke  which  arose  from 
thousands  of  little  fires  around  which  half-clothed  peo 
ple  were  crouching  in  a  vain  attempt  to  keep  warm. 

Shivering  coolies  with  their  heads  and  shoulders 
muffled  in  dirty  white  cotton  sheets  stood  about  wait 
ing  for  a  chance  to  carry  luggage,  and  reminding  Lil 
lian,  in  their  forgetfulness  of  their  bare  brown  legs 
and  feet,  of  spring  chickens  on  wintry  mornings.  The 
wheels  of  small  handcarts  with  their  light  weight  of 
luggage  shrieked  as  loudly  in  moving  over  the  stone- 
paved  floor  as  carts  of  ten  times  their  dimensions 
should.  Railway  clerks  with  papers  in  their  dark 
hands  went  about  with  as  much  manner  as  American 
railway  clerks,  though  without  their  briskness. 

Parties  of  native  ladies,  preceded  by  a  waft  of  per 
fume,  their  faces  covered,  and  their  hands  firmly  grasp 
ing  untold  lengths  and  fullness  of  silken  skirts,  jin 
gling  many  bangles  and  anklets,  glided  into  waiting 
coaches,  followed  by  servants  carrying  silver  pan 


24:  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

boxes,  hookahs,  and  innumerable  bundles  tied  in  old 
rags. 

Various  and  individual  groups  of  people  stood 
about,  waiting  for  whomsoever  the  train  might  bring 
them.  Here  a  cluster  of  callow  subalterns,  down  to 
meet  their  colonel  who  had  come  on  the  same  steamer 
as  the  Bishop  ;  there  a  captain  and  his  wife,  the  lat 
ter  with  a  great  bunch  of  cream  and  red  roses  in  her 
hand,  looking  for  her  sister  who  was  coming  out  with 
the  colonel's  wife  for  a  winter  in  India,  and  whatever 
it  might  bring  her  in  the  way  of  amusement  and  mat 
rimony.  Farther  down  was  the  English  millmaster, 
with  a  glow  on  his  honest  face  as  he  caught  sight  of 
the  tired  wife  and  babies  whom  he  had  left  in  ATan- 
chester  the  year  before,  when  he  came  out  to  try  his 
fortunes  in  this  strange  land ;  beyond  him  was  the 
Eurasian  clerk  still  in  his  white  drill  hot-weather 
clothes,  waiting  for  his  wife's  mother  and  big  sisters 
and  little  brothers  wrho  were  coming  to  visit  him 
while  his  father-in-law  was  "  temporarily  out  of  employ 
ment."  All  these  and  many  others,  and  yet  the  eyes 
of  the  Bishop's  party  went  straight  over  them  all  and 
lighted  on  another  group  a  little  apart.  Why,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  say,  for  the  members  of  it  were  doing 
exactly  the  same  as  all  others  on  the  platform,  looking 
eagerly  from  window  to  window  of  each  carriage  of 
the  slow-moving  train,  which  finally  stopped,  leaving 
the  carriage  in  which  were  the  Americans  opposite 
this  very  group.  While  waiting  for  the  guard  to  un 
lock  the  door  of  their  compartment  Mrs.  Clinton  took 
observations. 

First  she  at  once  noticed  the  absence  of  the  discon 
tented  and  vacant  expression  that  she  had  seen  on  so 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LrcKNow.  25 

many  faces  cast  of  Port  Said,  though  they  had  the  ap 
pearance  of  being  too  hard  worked  to  be  merry  or  to 
care  very  much  about  the  quality  or  style  of  their 
clothes,  or  in  any  way  to  think  of  the  impression  they 
were  making.  Two  or  three  of  the  women  had  on 
broad  gray  felt  hats,  while  all  of  the  men  wore  the 
same,  or  cork  helmets  which  gave  them  a  grotesque 
appearance,  heightened  in  the  women  by  the  cut  of 
their  clothes. 

Mrs.  Clinton  could  see  at  a  glance  that  each  one, 
though  dressed  very  plainly,  seemed  to  represent  by 
the  style  of  her  dress  a  different  epoch  in  the  world  of 
fashion. 

One  who  looked  a  little  younger  than  the  rest,  and 
whose  clothes  were  a  little  fresher,  had  a  dress  and 
jacket  in  vogue  three  years  before.  Mrs.  Clinton  re 
membered  this  with  exactness,  because  .it  was  of  the 
same  style  as  one  she  had  decided  not  to  bring  with 
her  because  of  the  ancientness  of  the  cut,  though  the 
dress  itself  was  fresh  and  new  compared  with  the  one 
before  her.  The  other  ladies  each  in  turn  represented 
preceding  epochs,  though  in  a  cursory  glance  she 
could  not  tell  the  time  chronologically. 

"  Certainly  sometime,"  she  said  to  herself,  with  a 
shudder — "sometime  in  the  Middle  Ages."  Then  to 
Lillian  :  "  O,  there  is  a  dress  exactly  like  the  one 
Em  wore  when  she  came  home,  and  I  remember  we 
wished  we  had  hired  a  close  carriage  to  t  :ke  her  from 
the  steamer  tc  the  house,  we  were  so  ashamed.  O" — 
with  another  quick  drawing  of  her  breath  and  grasp 
ing  her  husband's  arm — "these  are  the  Lucknow  mis 
sionaries,  and  they  have  come  to  meet  us.  How 
stupid  of  us!  We  might  have  known  1" 


26  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVEKSION. 

The  Bishop,  who  had  been  looking  thoughtfully  all 
about,  woke  from  his  reverie,  and  said  : 

"  I  dare  say.  Certainly  they  have  the  appearance 
of  veterans  of  some  kind,"  and  he  stepped  down,  as 
the  guard  unlocked  the  door,  to  have  both  hands 
seized  by  a  white-haired,  white-bearded,  hearty  old 
gentleman,  who  said  : 

"  I  saw  you  in  '72.  Do  you  not  remember  Thomp 
son,  of  Tippecanoe  Conference  ? " 

"Thompson,  of  course,  but  he  was  a  young  man" 
— in  a  bewildered  way.  This  was  greeted  by  a  burst 
of  quiet  laughter,  as  it  evidently  touched  a  -\vell-known 
sensitive  point. 

"  A  young  man  ?  Yes,  he  was  and  is  a  young  man. 
I  defy  any  one  to  say  I  am  not." 

"  And  do  you  remember  me  ?  I  saw  you  in  New 
York  in  '79,"  eaid  Mr.  Miller,  a  shy,  delicate-looking 
man. 

"  And  I  saw  you  in  Chicago  in  '80,"  said  Mr.  Mac 
kenzie,  another  pale-faced,  dark-bearded  man,  with  a 
marked  stoop  in  his  shoulders,  as  though  life's  bur 
dens  were  weighing  all  too  heavily. 

"  But,"  he  added,  as  he  saw  the  Bishop's  bewilder 
ment  in  trying  to  talk  to  so  many  at  once,  and  to  in 
troduce  his  wife,  who  had  been  seized  by  the  women, 
*'  never  mind  all  this  ;  give  me  your  receipts  for  your 
luggage  in  the  van,  and  I  will  look  after  it,  as  you  are 
to  go  with  us ; "  and  away  he  went  with  Thompson 
trotting  after  him. 

"You  must  not  overlook  me  because  I  am  small," 
said  a  large,  stout,  jolly  woman  with  tired  eyes ;  "  for 
I  know  you,  though  you  do  not  know  me." 

Each  and  every  one  had  a  greeting  for  them  that 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKXOW.  27 

made  them  feel  as  though  they  were  mistaken  in  their 
own  identity  and  had  come  among  their  brothers  and 
sisters.  There  was  the  stately  superintendent  of  the 
Lai  Bagh  school,  the  dark-eyed  woman  who  had  once 
only  gone  from  her  native  India,  to  cross  the  ocean 
with  the  sick  friend  whom  she  left  in  its  deep  waters; 
the  wife  of  the  dark-bearded  man  Avith  the  delicate 
face ;  a  short,  stont  woman  with  black  eyes ;  the 
Zenana  teacher,  who  was  so  thin  as  to  make  one  fear 
her  actual  disappearance ;  and  the  scholarly  teacher 
of  the  college  class  in  the  Lai  Bagh.  And  when  all 
were  done  shaking  hands,  and  the  luggage  was  put  on 
a  handcart,  Mrs.  Clinton  found  herself  and  Lillian  on 
the  back  'seat  and  her  husband  and  Mr.  Mackenzie 
on  the  front  seat  of  a  rather  small  carriage,  behind  a 
small  horse,  both  somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  going 
over  smooth,  hard  roads,  past  square  houses  with  flat 
roofs,  their  straight  lines  broken  everywhere  by  trees 
with  round,  thick  dark  foliage.  But  Mrs.  Clinton  was 
not  thinking  of  what  was  about  her.  An  undefined 
thought  was  in  her  mind  struggling  for  clear  expres 
sion. 

"Lillian,"  she  said,  under  cover  of  the  men's  talk 
of  the  steamer  and  the  journey  up  country,  ''did  you 
ever  see  any  people  like  these  before  ?  How  did  they 
look  to  you  ?  " 

"Why,  mamma,  I  thought  they  looked  a  little 
sorry  and  " — hesitatingly — "  a  little  glad  too,  as  though 
they  had  done  something  they  liked  to  do ;  like  those 
men  who  went  out  when  the  ship  was  wi'ecked  at 
Xahant  last  summer.  They  got  lots  of  dead  people, 
but  only  one  live  man  and  one  dear  little  baby.  But 
they  seemed  so  very  glad  they  had  tried,  though  they 


28  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

were  so  awfully  -tired,  and  they  were  so  wet  and  the 
water  ran  off  of  them,  and  they  did  not  care  about 
their  clothes,  or  whether  people  knew  they  were  wet. 
If  we  are  missionaries  will  we  have  to  not  care  about 
dresses  and  hats  ?"  she  asked,  anxiously.  It  was  one 
of  Lillian's  little  failings  to  care  very  much  about 
"  dresses  and  hats  "  for  a  girl  of  ten  years. 

Mrs.  Clinton  smiled  and  said  : 

"I  suppose  we  will  at  least  care  about  hats,  for  we 
will  have  to  wear  hats  like  those  to  protect  us  from 
the  sun  during  the  hot  season." 

"  But  it  is  cold  now,  and  there  is  no  sun  in  the 
night;  then  why,"  she  persisted,  "do  they  wear 
them  ? " 

But  Mrs.  Clinton  was  thinking  again,  and  did  not 
answer.  She  felt  things  quickly  and  keenly,  and  she 
liked  to  follow  out  her  impressions  to  see  if  there  were 
any  solid  reason  for  them  back  of  the  misty  cloud 
that  reached  her.  Lillian  had  in  her  imperfect  way 
expressed  her  own  thought,  but  the  picture  these  peo 
ple  recalled  to  her  mind  was  different  from  that  in 
Lillian's,  yet  similar.  It  came  to  her  as  an  indistinct 
memory  of  more  than  twenty  years  before — a  rail 
way  platform  and  some  soldiers  in  worn  and  faded 
blue  uniform ;  their  faces  were  pale  and  there  were 
marks  of  pain  on  some,  telling  of  unhealed  wounds  ; 
others  had  empty  sleeves  or  walked  with  the  aid  of 
crutches;  but  over  the  evidence  of  suffering  was 
the  peace  and  calm  which  comes  of  earnest  striving, 
mingled  with  the  joy  of  victory,  for  they  had  had 
the  most  dangerous  and  exposed  places  ami  the  long 
est  forced  marches,  and  finally  had  been  personally 
commended  by  their  commander-in-chief,  who  had 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKNOW.  29 

said  a  great  victory  won  had  turned  on  their  bravery 
and  endurance.  The  tears  rushed  to  Mrs.  Clinton's 
eyes  as  she  thought  of  the  three  groups  of  people — 
the  life-saving  crew,  spent  and  exhausted,  the  soldiers, 
wasted,  crippled,  and  weak,  and  this  group  of  people  on 
whom  they  had  come  to  spy,  and  she  said  to  herself  : 

"  It  is  not  romance,  it  is  not  imagination  ;  they 
are  one  and  the  same  in  that  they  have  risked  all  for 
what  to  them  seems  duty ;  that  they  all  have  counted 
not  their  lives  dear  if  given  for  an  object  greater  to 
them  than  their  own  welfare.  Even  Lillian  saw  it." 

Then  with  a  woman's  te'ndency  to  turn  to  trifles  she 
thought  again  and  remorsefully  of  the  dress  that  had 
not  been  good  enough  for  a  traveling  dress,  and  of  the 
fact  of  its  being  a  better  and  fresher  one  than  that  of 
the  best  dressed  of  the  group. 

"I  suppose  you  can  do  only  half  the  work  in  this 
climate  you  could  in  America,"  she  heard  the  Bishop 
say. 

There  was  a  sound  of  amusement  in  Mr.  Macken 
zie's  voice  as  he  answered  : 

"  I  work  ten  hours  a  day  regularly,  and  twelve  on 
extra  occasions.  I  really  have  forgotten  the  limit  in 
America." 

"Well,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  we  estimate  seven  hours 
for  mental  work  and  nine  for  mental  and  mechanical 
work  combined.  I  suppose,  however,  you  have  little 
mental  work.  The  simple-minded  Hindoo — 

"My  dear  sir,"  interrupted  Mackenzie,  laughing, 
"  allow  me  at  once  to  destroy  one  preconceived  notion. 
The  'simple-minded  Hindoo'  is  the  most  complex 
and  subtle  of  all  individuals  save  and  except  his  com 
patriot  the  '  simple-minded  Mohammedan.'  But 


30  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

here  we  are  ;  onr  long  drive  is  ended,  and  we  welcome 
you  to  our  house.  My  wife  is  already  here,  I  see,  as 
she  came  with  Miss  Lowe,  who  has  abettor  horse  than 
ours." 

"  Now,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  leading  them  at 
once  to  an  inner  room,  "  when  YOU  have  taken  off 
your  wraps  come  out  to  the  fire;  we  have  only  one 
fireplace  in  the  house.  We  will  have  some  tea,  and 
perhaps  it  will  help  us  to  get  warm." 

Mrs.  Clinton  threw  off  her  wraps  and  went  back  to 
the  fire  in  a  hurry,  for  she  did  not  want  a  minute 
alone  with  her  husband.  A  hasty  glimpse  of  the  sit 
ting  room,  or  parlor,  as  she  would  have  called  it,  had 
made  her  heart  sink  with  fear  and  dread. 

"Was  she  to  lose  her  cause  at  the  outset?  If  so, 
and  if  she  had  been  mistaken  and  the  missionaries  were 
after  all  living  like  'nabobs  or  nawabs'  or  rajahs, 
she  could  never  bear  it.  She  would  almost  feel  as 
though  she  had  spent  her  life  in  vain — what  would  she 
or  what  could  sho  do  ? "  and  she  sank  down  in  an  easy 
chair  b}T  the  fire,  where  she  was  joined  by  the  others; 
and  then  came  a  servant  in  white  turban  and  waist 
band,  or  kamarband,  and  silently  held  a  tray  on 
which  were  cups  of  tea,  with  milk  and  sugar,  and  a 
plate  with  slices  of  bread  and  butter.  She  took  a  cup 
with  the  sense  of  doing  the  man  a  favor.  As  she  did 
so  she  gave  a  furtive  glance  at  the  Bishop,  expecting 
and  seeing  the  expression  which  always  appeared  on 
his  face  when  the  conclusion  of  an  argument  satisfied 
him  that  he  had  boon  right  in  his  premises.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Mackenzie  hastily  drank  the  tea,  then  the  former 
said  : 

"  If  you  will  excuse  my  wife  and  me  fur  a  half-hour. 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  Lr<  KNOW.  Hi 

while  you  are  getting  warm,  we  will  be  glad,  as  we 
have  a,  little  proof  for  onr  paper  to  be  read  before  we 
go  to  bed;"  and  they  hurried  away. 

The  sound  of  the  word  "  proof  "  was  to  the  Bishop 
like  the  smoke  of  battle  to  an  old  war-horse.  All  his 
spare  moments,  his  vacations,  and  his  holidays  had  been 
snatched  for  writing,  and  through  all  the  heavy  and 
absorbing  duties  of  ecclesiastical  life  there  had  been 
a  secret  longing  for  a  life  devoted  to  literary  work. 

"Here  is,  perhaps,"  he  said,  tentatively,  "a  mission 
ary  who  is  devoting  his  life  to  literature  instead  of 
legitimate  mission  work.  Certainly  the  first  impres 
sions,"  and  he  glanced  up  at  the  lofty  ceiling,  "  are 
not  of  self-denying  asceticism,  at  least." 

It  is  strange  that  people  who  in  their  own  environ 
ments  are  cautious  in  forming  opinions,  deliberate  in 
drawing  conclusions,  and  hesitating  in  expressing 
them,  will,  when  in  a  foreign  country,  take  the  most 
startling  leaps  and  make  the  most  desperate  attempts 
to  bridge  impossible  chasms  and  most  utterly  lose 
their  footing.  It  is  as  though  they  felt  that  wisdom 
was  embodied  and  would  die  in  their  own  native  land, 
as  though  they  were  the  apostles  of  that  wisdom,  and 
through  them,  and  them  only,  could  it  be  disseminated. 

His  wife  was  busy  with  her  thoughts,  and  made  no 
answer.  The  large,  lofty  room  which  at  the  first 
glance  had  seemed  so  stately  and  well  furnished  was 
being  examined  more  closely,  and  her  heart,  which 
had  fallen  at  the  first  sight,  was  now  assuming  its 
wonted  cheerfulness,  and  there  was  a  curious  smile  on 
her  face.  It  was  clear  to  her  now  that  she  would  not 
be  beaten  at  the  outset,  at  least,  and  she  did  not  much 
fear  it  later. 
a 


32  TlIE    BlSIIOI''s    CoNVK.KSIoN. 

The  room  was  large  and  lofty,  there  could  be  no 
denying  it;  she  had  heard  this  was  necessary;  but 
as  to  its  being  well  furnished,  she  smiled  as  with  a 
woman's  quickness  she  "  speered "  into  one  after 
another  of  the  simple  devices  to  give  the  room  a 
comfortable  and  homelike  appearance — simple,  she 
saw,  both  as  regards  time  and  money ;  yet  even  she 
did  not  grasp  the  situation  fully,  not  knowing  the 
prices  of  the  various  things  used.  Feeling  chills 
creeping  over  her  she  rose  and  stood  with  her  back 
to  the  fire,  saying  : 

"  I  could  almost  believe  this  fire  a  pretense,  I  get  so 
little  warmth  from  it." 

The  Bishop  followed  her  example. 

"  It  is  because  of  the  size  of  the  room,"  he  said,  with 
a  little  triumph  in  his  tone;  for  no  matter  how  good 
and  earnest  men  are,  they  do  enjoy  a  triumph,  and 
there  is  no  dearer  privilege  to  the  best  of  them  than 
of  saying  to  their  wives,  "  I  told  you  so." 

"  It  is  because  of  the  size  of  the  room,"  he  repeat 
ed,  "for  this  is  certainly  a  larger  and  loftier  room 
than  we  ever  had  in  our  house,  or  I  may  say  than  I 
have  ever  seen  in  any  minister's  house  in  America." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  looking  across  the  room 
that  was  filled  with  the  same  smoke  that  had  softened 
the  landscape  but  which  dulled  the  light  of  the  lamp 
and  gave  an  inexpressibly  dreary  aspect  to  everything  ; 
"  yes,"  she  said,  meditatively,  "  my  father's  barn  was 
a  very  much  larger  structure  than  our  house,  yet  I 
never  heard  anyone  express  a  desire  to  exchange  onr 
cosy  little  home  for  it." 

';  Ah,"  said  the  Bishop,  for  he  was  honest  to  the 
core,  "  ah,  yes,  that  is  really  of  what  I  was  reminded  ; 


Tin-;  ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKNOW.  33 

it  is  rather  barny,  is  it  not?  But  still  there  are  many 
very  handsome  things  in  it." 

Just  then  Mrs.  Mackenzie  came  in,  shivering,  with 
a  shawl  wrapped  around  her. 

"  How  I  wish,"  she  said,  brightly,  "  I  could  get 
warm  once  more.  We  live  in  extremes  here  ;  broiled 
in  the  long  hot  season,  stewed  and  steamed  in  the  wet 
hot  season,  and  chilled  to  the  marrow  in  the  cold  sea 
son.  The  fire  looks  warm,  and  that's  one  comfort; 
but  this  room  is  so  big  it  is  impossible  to  warm  the 
air  in  it." 

"  But  why  have  the  rooms  so  large,  if  you  do  not 
like  them  and  cannot  be  comfortable  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Clinton,  eager  to  begin  the  contest. 

Mrs.  Mackenzie  gave  a  quick  look,  first  at  Mrs. 
Clinton  and  then  at  the  Bishop,  and  she  smiled  as  she 
remembered  with  what  pain  she  also,  when  she  first 
landed,  had  seen  the  large  houses,  for  she  had  had  a 
vague  idea  of  living  in  grass  huts. 

"  O,"  she  said,  "  we  have  our  houses,  like  every 
thing,  not  for  pleasure  or  comfort,  but  of  necessity. 
They  are  built  for  the  hot  weat'.ier,  and  with  the  ob 
ject  of  inclosing  as  many  square  inches  of  oxygen  as 
possible ;  for  when  you  are  shut  up  in  a  house  many 
hours  every  day  for  six  months,  with  the  thermom 
eter  at  one  hundred  and  seventy  degrees  outside,  your 
life  depends  on  oxygen,  and  to  procure  this  we  must 
shiver  through  our  three  months  of  cold  weather." 

"  But  I  am  sure  a  big  stove  such  as  we  had  when 
we  lived  in  the  country  would  warm  this  room,"  said 
the  Bishop. 

"  Stoves!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mackenzie;  "  do  not  be 
gin  to  talk  of  luxuries  like  stoves.  People  Lore,  some 


34  THE  BISHOP'S  ('<>N\  i I:<ION. 

people,  do  Iiuve  them,  but  mission  log  cannot  afford 
them." 

"Well" — dryly  looking  about  him — "I  confess  I 
have  heard  pictures  and  bric-a-brac  called  luxuries, 
though  stoves  are  not  usually  put  down  in  the  same 
category." 

"  Supposing,  however,  one's  bric-a-brac  cost  one 
nothing,  and  would  bring  next  to  nothing  if  sold,  and 
one  makes  the  pictures  in  moments  when  too  weary 
for  anything  useful,  would  they  still  be  counted  as 
luxuries  ?  And  suppose  a  stove,  even  a  small  one, 
would  cost  as  much  as  nearly  everything  else  in  the 
room,  and  if  it  were  not  necessary,  then  would  not 
the  order  be  reversed  ? " 

"  Of  course  it  would,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  sym 
pathetically ;  "and  even  if  it  would  not  I  know  of  no 
law,  moral  or  otherwise,  to  prevent  a  missionary's 
wife  from  having  a  pretty  room,  if  it  should  cost  a 
little,  though  my  eyes  are  keen  enough  to  see  that 
yours  did  not  cost  much." 

"And  you  do  not  think  Bishop  A.  was  right  when 
he  reported  my  carpet  to  be  Brussels  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Mackenzie,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Hardly — but  what  is  it  ?  It  looks  nice  even  to  one 
who  might  see  more  clearly  than  the  good  Bishop." 

"  It  is  called  farsh,  and  is  a  coarse  sail-like  cloth, 
dyed  and  then  stamped  by  hand  in  the  bazar,  and  costs 
the  extravagant  sum  of  ten  cents  a  yard,  inclusive  of 
sewing  and  putting  down." 

The  Bishop's  mouth  was  open  in  a  most  nnclerical 
way.  Did  he  not  remember  his  wife's  saying  some 
thing  of  getting  a  carpet  that  was  "  such  a  bargain  " 
at  three  dollars  a  yard  ?  He  must  be  dreaming. 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LTCKXOW.  35 

"And  you  will  nut  say  that  I  have  expensive  terra 
cotta  vases  filled  with  costly  plants,  I  know ;  but  for 
fear  you  might  not  understand  let  me  say  that  those 
'  terra  cotta '  vases,"  pointing  to  some  oval  pots  on  the 
floor,  "  are  the  ordinary  pots  for  carrying  water,  and 
cost  three  cents  apiece,  filled  with  wild  jungle-grass." 

It  was  Mrs.  Clinton's  turn  to  gasp  with  astonish 
ment  and  delight  and  exclaim  : 

"  They  are  perfectly  lovely,  and  I  shall  take  home 
a  dozen  of  them." 

"  You  might  find  them  an  extravagance,  even  at 
three  cents  apiece,  if  you  attempt  to  take  home  a 
dozen.  But  I  see  you  enter  into  the  merits  of  the 
case,  and -will  not  if  I  give  you  green  pease  in  the  win 
ter  eat  them  with  a  relish,  as  one  did,  and  then  com 
plain  at  home  that  missionaries  could  have  green  pease 
in  February,  when  people  who  supported  them  could 
not  afford  it." 

Mrs.  Mackenzie's  eyes  danced,  and  she  added  : 

"If  he  had  only  said  we  would  have  given  ten 
times  as  much  for  them  in  July  as  in  February  per 
haps  it  would  have  left  a  different  impression  on  the 
minds  of  those  who  hear  it." 

"  No,  I  certainly  would  not  do  that ;  but  he  must 
have  been  unkind  as  well  as  stupid  not  to  have  under 
stood  it  without  explanation." 

"  lie  is  not  the  first  nor  the  only  one  who  has  been 
entertained  by  us  at  much  inconvenience  and  sacri 
fice,  and  enjoyed  all  we  could  give,  and  gone  away  to 
say  we  live  too  well." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  with  apparent  irrele 
vance,  "  I  could  lay  the  ghost  of  the  herbivorous  mis 
sionary." 


3#  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

Mrs.  Mackenzie  laughed.  Had  she  not  wished  the 
same  many  a  time  ?  But  the  matter-of-fact  Bishop 
turned  a  startled  glance  toward  her  as  though  he 
feared  some  mental  aberration. 

"  "What  \ "  he  asked  in  explanation. 

"The  typical  herbivorous  missionary  who  wanders 
about,  eating  what  he  can  pick  up,  and  who  is  always 
sitting  under  palm  trees,  surrounded  by  an  eager  mul 
titude  who  are  begging  him  to  read  the  Bible  to 
them.  He  is  a  ghost  that  exists  only  in  the  brains  of 
romantic  people  who  never  have  anything  to  do  with 
mission  work  practically." 

"  Certainly  you  cannot  say  that  Dr.  Moffat  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Judson  and  others  of  their  day  were 
imaginary  characters.  Surely  they  wandered,  and 
there  were  times  when  they  were  glad  of  roots  and 
berries  or  anything  else  they  could  pick  up.  We 
shall  never  have  better  missionaries.  These  of  the 
present  day  may  well  take  example  from  them." 

"  Yes ;  but,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  sweetly,  "  be 
cause  Asbury  rode  a  horse  with  saddle-bags  all  over 
the  West,  and  ate  with  the  Indians,  do  the  Bishops 
of  the  present  day  think  it  necessary  to  do  so  or  ad 
visable  not  to  make  use  of  the  railway  ?  " 

This  was  a  clincher  from  the  meek-looking  woman, 
from  whom  he  had  hardly  expected  the  argumentum 
ad  hominem. 

"Xo;  for  though  the  methods  of  those  early  days 
were  good  and  efficacious  for  the  times,  yet  with 
the  size  and  importance  of  our  present  church  they 
would  be  impossible.  Time  and  strength  would  be 
wasted." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie  ;  "  and  may  I  ask 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LTTCKNOW.  37 

you  to  remember  that  progress  touches  even  a  mis 
sion?" 

"  There  was  a  picture,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  slowly, 
and  smiling  a  little,  "that  hung  in  my  mother's 
bedroom ;  in  fact,  there  were  two  pictures,  framed 
in  solemn  black,  of  a  flying  angel  in  the  sky,  and 
a  lot  of  hands  lifted  up  from  a  dusky  crowd  of 
people  reaching  for  the  Bible  the  angel  held. 
There  was  a  background  of  palm  trees  and  mosques 
of  unknown  architecture,  and  on  the  lower  half  of 
one  sheet  was  a  certificate  in  my  mother's  name 
of  life-membership  of  the  Missionary  Society.  The 
other  was  of  her  mother ;  and  when  my  aunt  died 
there  was  another  brought,  and  the  three  were  some 
how  associated  with  the  awfulness  of  my  mother's 
room,  where  we  were  never  found  unless  there  was 
a  necessity  for  a  course  of  discipline  ;  and  they  are 
somehow  mixed  up  in  my  mind  with  missionaries 
and  mission  work." 

There  was  a  gravity  on  the  Bishop's  face  that  was 
only  one  remove  from  displeasure. 

"  But,"  she  went  on  with  an  audacious  smile,  de 
termined  at  least  to  make  his  face  relax,  "  perhaps  it 
was  because  I  was  always  puzzled  over  the  picture, 
wondering  how  people  could  hold  up  their  hands  and 
feet  too ;  for  there  were  so  many  and  they  seemed  so 
mixed  up  that  I  thought  some  must  have  put  up  feet." 

The  Bishop  did  smile,  but  he  said  : 

"  I  do  not  see  what  this  has  to  do  with  the  '  imagi 
nary  missionary.' " 

"  I  do.  My  impressions  of  a  vague,  romantic,  and 
unreal  person  began  there.  I  say  my  impressions 
began  there,  but  so  did  those  of  hundreds  of  other 


38  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

people;  and  impressions  are  often  as  tenacious  as  con 
victions.  I  hope  mine  end  with  entering  the  house 
of  live  flesh-and-bone  missionaries." 

Mr.  Mackenzie  had  entered  in  time  to  catch  the  main 
part  of  this,  and  a  bright  look  of  appreciation  of  the 
fun,  and  relief  at  finding  unexpected  sympathy,  light 
ened  a  face  that  had  a  settled  weariness. 

"  Ah,  then  yon  at  least  will  not  be  disappointed  if 
you  do  not  find  the  typical  missionary  ? "  he  said. 

"No,  I  shall  not;  for  I  do  not  believe  he  exists, 
with  one  exception,  and  he  is  a  giant  who  scales 
mountains  and  traverses  seas,  and  digs  wells  in  the 
deadly  sun,  and  lives  on  nothing  if  he  happens  to  have 
it,  regardless  of  the  limitations  of  time  and  space  and 
nutrition  which  bind  other  men." 

"If  there  is  only  one  how  can  you  say  he  is  typi 
cal  ? "  asked  the  Bishop,  with  visible  patience  with  the 
vagaries  of  the  weaker  vessel. 

"He  is  typical  only  of  the  image  that  is  called  up 
in  people's  minds  at  the  sound  of  the  word  'mis 
sionary.'  ': 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mackenzie,  "  he  is  a  pioneer  and  a 
grand  one,  but  while  it  is  necessary  for  a  pioneer  in 
any  new  country  to  fell  trees  and  burn  underbrush 
and  turn  up  the  soil  the  process  would  be  of  very 
little  use  if  others  did  not  follow — patient,  plodding 
men  who  can  plant  and  sow.  This  has  been  proved 
where  he  has  dune  pioneer  work  that  was  not  fol 
lowed  quickly  by  the  steady  plodders;  it  vanished 
like  the  dew  before  the  sun.  It  is  the  steady,  hard, 
well-organized  work  that  tells.  It  cannot  be  brilliant 
work,  for  men  who  do  it  are  rarely  heard  of  out  of 
their  immediate  circle.  Permanent  success  is  simply 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LtTCKNOW.  39 

a  matter  of  time  and  patience  and  perseverance 
through  all  kinds  of  difficulties  and  discouragements. 
Xo  meteoric  showers  of  Bibles  and  tracts  and  ser 
mons  will  ever  effect  any  solid  work,  though  they 
may  open  the  way  for  the  plodders." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  thoughtfully;  "yes,"  he 
repeated.  There  was  something  in  those  words  that 
caught  his  attention. 

"Our  Church  in  America,"  Mackenzie  went  on, 
"  is  founded  on  broad  business  principles.  Emotion 
is  allowed  no  part  in  its  government  and  its  plan  for 
extension.  What  is  the  result  ?  The  mightiest  and 
most  sweeping  advance  the  world  lias  ever  seen  in  a 
Church  ;  but  when  she  comes  to  missions  you  might 
almost  say  they  are  her  little  recreation.  She  allows 
her  imagination  to  play,  and  will  give,  on  impulse, 
the  most  to  the  field  that  can  tell  the  most  thrilling 
tales.  She  loves  the  '  herbivorous  missionary,'  as  your 
wife  calls  him;  but  it  is  time  that  she  wakes  up  to 
the  situation  and  learns  that  the  idea  of  one  lone  man 
wandering  through  the  jungle  is  mere  child's  play  to 
the  work  she  has  on  hand.  And  the  very  first  thing 
she  needs  a  clearer  view  of  is  the  missionary  himself. 
Xot  only  the  Church,  but  the  people  at  large,  will 
never  understand  mission  work  until,  because  we  give 
up  our  coats,  they  cease  to  demand  of  us  that  we  give 
up  our  cloaks  also." 

"I  confess  I  do  not  understand  your  last  remark," 
was  the  stiff  rejoinder  of  his  listener. 

"I  will  make  it  more  plain.  AVe  give  up  home 
and  friends,  a  friendly  climate,  our  worldly  ambi 
tions — for  even  we  have  legitimate  ambitions — and 
come  to  a  deadly  climate,  to  a  narrowing  life,  and  one 


40  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

that  stunts  all  mental  and  checks  moral  development, 
and  they  try  to  demand  that  we  give  up  also  the  nec 
essaries  of  life." 

"Not  quite  so  bad.  Allow  me  to  say  that  state 
ment  is  an  exaggeration.  No  one  would  ever  think 
of  going  so  far." 

"  They  would  not  mean  to  go  so  far,  yet  if  one  fol 
lowed  out  their  plans  literally  it  would  amount  to 
deprivation  of  the  things  that  are  actually  necessary 
to  life.  But  you  will  allow  this  one  statement  to  be 
true :  the  necessities  of  life  in  one  country  may  be 
luxuries  in  another,  as  we  have  proved  in  the  matter 
of  stoves.  It  is  so  also  in  the  matter  of  servants,  and 
in  that  of  food  and  clothing.  Now,  as  a  practical  ex 
ample,  were  my  wife  to  attempt  to  do  the  cooking 
for  the  family  for  one  month  in  the  hot  weather  it 
would  not  only  take  up  all  her  time,  but  would  prob 
ably  take  her  life  also  ;  so  a  cook  is  one  of  the  neces 
saries  of  life  here,  whereas  there  might  be  places 
where  he  would  be  a  luxury ;  and  one  of  her  luxuries 
now  and  then  in  the  cold  weather  is  to  take  a  little 
time  to  prepare  for  the  table  some  dish  that  we  used 
to  have  in  the  home  land.  Look  at  that  dish  of  pink 
roses,  and  these  palms,  that  give  such  an  air  of  luxu 
riance  to  the  room,  chiefly  because  roses  and  palms  in 
February  are  associated  with  luxurious  living.  "We, 
however,  would  give  them  all  for  a  stalk  of  golden-rod 
or  a  handful  of  buttercups  from  the  river  pasture- 
land." 

Mrs.  Clinton  broke  in,  exclaiming : 

"  Is  it  true?  Would  you  give  those  delicious  roses 
all,  and  the  palms  too,  for  a  sprig  of  golden-rod  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  as  her  eyes  filled  with 


THK   ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKXCHV.  41 

homesick  tears,  u  I  would  quickly.  I  am  often  re 
minded  of  myself  by  a  pine  tree  that  is  back  of  this 
bungalow.  It  is  so  stunted  and  dreary -looking,  and  so 
homesick  for  its  own  natural  surroundings  that  it 
never  grows,  and  some  day  will  die  from  sheer  ina 
bility  to  become  adjusted  to  the  unfamiliar  growths 
about  it." 

Mrs.  Clinton  took  her  hand  and  gave  it  a  sympa 
thetic  squeeze  as  the  Bishop  said  to  Mackenzie  : 

"  You  have  scored  a  point  there,  on  the  necessities 
of  one  country  being  the  luxuries  of  another,  I  grant 
you,  and  a  strong  point  which  I  shall  consider  and 
perhaps  use  in  some  future  time  ;  but  you  ignore  the 
fact  that  -missionaries  are  supported — ah — not  exactly 
by  charity,  but  what  is  in  a  way  considered  charity, 
and  are  not  expected  to  demand  what  the  other  min 
isters  do." 

"  But  wherein  has  a  Church  a  right  to  set  apart  one 
class  of  her  servants,  and  say  they  are  the  objects  of 
charity,  as  you  are  pleased  to  term  them,  while  others, 
paid  from  the  same  subscriptions,  and  perhaps  doing 
the  same  kind  of  work  in  their  own  land,  sur 
rounded  by  friends  and  a  friendly  climate,  are  put  quite 
in  another  division  of  the  Church  ?  Say,  for  instance, 
that  a  man  is  a  missionary  in  a  foreign  land.  lie 
goes  home  and  administers  mission  money  at  three 
times  the  salary;  he  straightway  is  taken  off  the  char 
ity  list  and  becomes  a  regular  church  servant.  Who 
creates  this  difference  ?  " 

"The  matter  of  fact  is,  for  the  responsible  positions 
at  home  we  must  have  superior,  clear-headed  men  of 
ability,  and  we  cannot  get  them  on  what  you  are  al 
lowed  here." 


42  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION*. 

"But  we  must  have  the  same  kind  of  men  here. 
That  we  do  have  the  same  kind  is  proven  by  the  fact 
that  our  men,  when  for  various  reasons  they  do  go 
home  to  live,  till  these  same  places.  ISfow  allow  me 
to  say  that  there  is  a  mistake  in  the  attitude  of  the 
Church,  in  which,  if  individuals  were  set  right,  there 
would  be  a  different  sentiment,  and  one  that  would 
enforce  a  little  more  economy  at  home  under 
favorable  climate,  and  not  so  much  abroad,  where  it 
would  be  disastrous  to  all  work.  You  see  it  is  as 
though  the  Church,  which  is  large  and  wealthy,  with  a 
large  revenue,  when  she  decided  to  plant  a  large 
branch  of  it  in  a  foreign  country,  said  as  she  called  for 
volunteers  :  '  There  is  to  be  a  great  war  ;  we  ask  you  to 
take  the  difficult  and  dangerous  posts.  In  order  that 
you  may  be  well  equipped  for  this  we  should  like  you 
to  have  the  best  of  food  and  plenty  of  it,  the  houses 
best  calculated  to  protect  you  from  the  ravages  of  sun, 
heat,  and  disease  incident  to  a  tropical  climate  ;  we 
should  like  to  give  you  the  books  you  need  to  keep 
your  minds  fitted  for  your  work,  and  conveyances  to 
take  you  about,  that  you  may  not  lose  precious  time 
and  strength ;  but  there  is  a  sentiment  in  favor  of  an 
ascetic  life'  (which,  let  me  say  in  passing,  means  death), 
'and  we  cannot  do  it.  There  is  no  sentiment  against 
well  paying  our  servants  who  stay  comfortably  at 
home,  but  you  are  another  class.'  ' 

The  Bishop  looked  perplexed.  He  could  not  agree 
with  all  this,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  catch  any  point 
where  he  could  disagree,  or  any  point  of  which  he 
could  take  hold. 

"  Well,  of  course,"  he  said,  lamely,  "  missionaries 
are  another  class." 


THE  ARRIVAL  AT  LUCKNOW.  4:3 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

u  They  are  especially  consecrated  to  a  life  of  devo 
tion,  and  more  is  demanded  of  them." 

"  By  whom  ?  The  same  bishop  ordains  us  all,  we 
all  serve  God,  whom  we  love,  and  we  all  live  to  prop 
agate  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Do  not 
misunderstand  me.  I  have  never  suffered,  and  the 
authorities  will  never  see  us  suffer  for  anything  we 
need.  It  is  only  that  the  sentiment  at  large  needs 
cultivating  ;  but  we  have  no  time  to  stop  and  cultivate 
it  or  change  it.  We  have  hardly  time  to  stop  and  say 
what  shape  or  plan  our  houses  shall  be  or  how  we 
shall  live.  The  necessities  of  each  day  are  all  we 
want,  and- we  cannot  spend  precious  time  over  things 
unimportant  in  themselves.  But  I  see  Lillian  is  wish 
ing  for  an  opportunity  to  close  her  blue  eyes,  and  your 
wife  is  hoping  we  will  postpone  the  remainder  of  this 
discussion  until  to-morrow." 

Lillian  smiled  sleepily,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  said  as 
she  rose,  yawning,  "  You  have  divined  my  thoughts 
exactly;"  and  soon  all  was  silent  in  the  bungalow. 


•±4  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION, 


CHAPTER    III. 

JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT. 

THE  next  morning  the   three   travelers   were  up 
early  and  out  exploring  their  surroundings  with  a 
Crusoe-like  eagerness. 

Lillian,  with  the  quickness  of  childhood,  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  little  girl  at  the  end  of  the  garden  and 
lie\v  away  to  join  her,  guessing  she  was  the  Katie  of 
whom  Mrs.  Mackenzie  had  told  her  the  ni^ht  before. 

o 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  with  a  strange  fascina 
tion  not  found  where  there  is  a  rustling  of  leaves,  a 
whir  of  many  wings,  a  twitter  of  birds,  a  general  stir 
of  men  and  animals  glad  and  anxious  to  be  about  the 
business  of  the  day.  It  was  all  so  quiet.  If  the  day 
was  advancing  it  was  doing  so  imperceptibly  and  with 
an  infinite  stillness.  The  sunny  sides  of  the  long- 
trnnked  Millingtonia  trees,  of  the  square-topped 
whitewashed  bungalows,  of  the  dust-covered  foliage 
surrounding  the  bungalows,  and  the  blue-gray  cactus 
hedge  were  of  a  deep  bright  yellow  ;  but  the  dark  side 
of  the  trees,  the  bungalows,  the  hedge,  and  all  the  land 
scape  that  had  not  the  high  lights  of  the  fiery  sun, 
had  a  blue  haze  over  them  not  unlike  smoke,  while  the 
sky  was  a  pale  dull  blue  mingled  with  yellow. 

Native  people  were  sauntering  by  with  no  evidence 
of  hurry,  wrapped  in  dirty  white  or  brown  blankets. 
In  sharp  contrast  to  them  were  now  and  then  English- 


A  NATIVE  WATER-DRAWER. 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  45 

men  in  "  sola  topis,"  or  helmets,  and  gray  business  suits 
who  drove  their  dog-carts  sharply  past,  startling  the 
sleepy  natives  just  in  time  for  them  to  wake  up  and 
save  themselves  from  being*run  over. 

It  was  all  strange  and  picturesque,  from  the  creak 
ing  pulley  of  the  well  (by  which  the  bihisti  with  red 
dripping  drapery  was  drawing  up  a  pigskin  bursting 
with  water,  showing  in  a  most  absurd  way  the  head, 
legs,  and  entire  shape  of  the  defunct  animal  from 
which  it  had  been  robbed),  and  the  sweepers  with  their 
bundles  of  twigs  sweeping  the  road  clear  of  dead 
leaves,  to  the  garden  with  its  roses  and  heliotrope  and 
the  servants'  houses  of  mud,  with  the  happy  brown 
children  playing  before  them. 

"  It  is  not  the  India  of  my  dreams,"  said  Mrs.  Clin 
ton,  as  she  turned  to  greet  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mackenzie, 
who  joined  them,  followed  by  a  man  with  a  tray  of 
tea  and  dry  toast,  who  put  it  on  a  table  in  the  middle 
of  the  veranda  and  hurried  away. 

"  Xo,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  as  she  poured  out  the 
tea  ;  "  the  India  of  one's  dream  is  a  fanciful  India,  and 
exists,  as  far  as  I  have  seen,  only  in  visions  and  poets' 
fancies.  Yet  there  may  be  a  realization  of  it  some 
where  in  this  vast  empire,  for  there  are  no  two  towns 
alike,  and  the  customs  in  different  parts  of  the  country 
vary  as  greatly  as  in  the  towns  ; "  and  then  she  added, 
';  It  is  cold  here  for  our  little  breakfast,  but  it  is  colder 
in  the  house.  This  veranda  collects  all  the  heat  there 
is  going,  and  though  you  need  your  overcoats  you 
would  need  them  much  more  in  the  house." 

A  man  came  just  then  with  a  basket  of  mail,  which 
Mr.  Mackenzie  took  and  began  sorting. 

"  You  will  see  by  this  mail  that  I  have  three  vari- 
4 


4:6  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

eties  of  work  under  my  charge.  This,"  touching  the 
largest  heap,  "  forms  the  daily  allowance  for  the  pub 
lishing  house,  and  these,"  indicating  another  pile,  "  are 
treasury  letters,  but  I  shall  soon  pass  all  that  part  of 
my  work  over  to  Dr.  Wall,  and  these,"  handing  an 
other  lot  to  his  wife.  "  I  have  as  editor  of  a  young 
people's  illustrated  paper,  and  which  I  pass  on  to  the 
subeditor." 

"Your  duties  seem  to  be  varied,"  remarked  the 
Bishop  ;  "  I  do  not  see  just  where  you  can  find  time 
for  legitimate  mission  work." 

"What  is  legitimate  mission  work?" 

"  Preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen  with  all  your 
might,  mind,  and  strength,"  was  the  firm  answer. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  am  doing  ;  I  preach  to  many 
thousands  every  day.  If  you  will  come  with  me  after 
breakfast  I  will  show  you  my  method  of  doing  it ;  but 
now  tell  me  what  plans  you  have  for  sight-seeing.  Of 
course,  like  other  globe-trotters,  your  main  effort  will 
be  to  see  Lucknow,  including  a  glimpse  of  mission 
work,  in  a  day  and  a  half,  leaving  the  latter  half  of 
the  second  day  for  taking  the  train  to  Cawnpoor  and 
'  doing '  that  place." 

His  only  answer  was  a  laugh  from  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"Or  are  you  going  to  give  the  unprecedented  time 
of  three  days  to  Lucknow  alone  ?  " 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed  again  and  said  :  "  I  see  the 
sight-seeing  fiend  has  been  here  and  corrupted  your 
minds ;  but  we  will  inaugurate  a  new  era  ;  we  are  go 
ing  to  see  India,  and  we  are  going  to  try  to  ~know 
India,  and  not  simply  rush  about  like  mad  people." 
Mrs.  Clinton  did  not  care  to  avow  their  real  plans, 
and  the  Bishop,  strange  to  say,  felt  a  hesitation,  in  the 


JUGGLED  AXD  SHAWL  MKKCII.VNT.  47 

face  of  the  warm  welcome  lie  hud  received  from  all, 
to  explain  that  he  hud  come  as  a  spy.  lie  finally 
said,  with  a  visible  effort : 

"I  expect  to  make  my  home  in  Lucknow  for  one 
year,  and  with  it  as  a  vantage-ground  study  India 
thoroughly  from  the  missionary  point  of  view." 

"  Seriously  ?"  said  Mackenzie,  Getting  down  his  cnp, 
and  turning  quickly  and  looking  at  the  Bishop  with 
;in  absurd  amount  of  incredulity  on  his  face. 

''Certainly,"  with  dignity;  "why  not?" 

"And  you  also?"  to  Mrs.  Clinton,  who  was  enjoy 
ing  his  surprise. 

"Yes,  as  my  husband  says,  '  why  not  ?'  You  cer 
tainly  do -not  think  we  should  be  qualified  to  speak  on 
India  or  on  mission  work  in  any  shorter  time?  And 
in  order  to  do  this  in  the  best  and  most  thorough  way 
we  are  going  to  be  missionaries,  live  on  missionary 
allowance,  and  work  as  they  do,  without  swerving." 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  rather  careful  to  keep  this  latter 
point  before  her  husband,  for  now  and  then  lie 
showed  a  tendency  to  ignore  it. 

Mr.  Mackenzie  turned  to  his  wife  in  a  helpless 
way,  as  though  he  expected  her  to  express  his  feel 
ings  for  him,  but  she  returned  his  look  in  silence,  and 
there  was  a  pause,  broken  only  by  the  hoarse  cawing 
of  the  crows  that  were  flying  about  hoping  for  a 
stray  bit  of  toast.  Finally  Mrs.  Mackenzie  whimsi 
cally  said  to  her  husband  : 

"Will  you  kindly  look  out  and  see  if  the  sky  is 
tailing?" 

There  was  a  laugh  all  around,  and  then  Mr.  Mac 
kenzie  said  : 

'•  This  is  so  nearly  what  we  have  wished,  and  so  far 


48  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

from  what  we  ever  supposed  could  be,  that  you  will 
pardon  us  if  onr  surprise  is  tempered  with  incredulity. 
If  you  can  do  it — observe  that  I  say  if — it  will  be 
the  best  thing  that  has  happened  for  many  a  day." 

"  We  do  not  care  how  strong  an  emphasis  you  put 
on  the  word  'if,'  and  we  intend  to  prove  our  good 
faith  by  looking  for  a  house  this  very  day  in  which 
to  begin  our  missionary  career." 

"  See  here,"  said  Mr.  Mackenzie,  "  Thompson 
leaves  to-night  to  take  his  wife,  whose  health  has 
failed,  to  America,  and  his  house  will  be  empty  and 
available  to-morrow.  If  you  are  a  missionary  you 
must  live  in  a  mission  house,  though  of  course  we  hope 
you  will  remain  with  us  as  long  as  possible." 

"  And  I  will  help  you  settle,  for  that  is  really  the 
hardest  part  of  the  coming  to  India,"  said  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie. 

"Do  missionaries'  wives  usually  help  each  other  to 
settle?" 

"No,  indeed  ;  we  all  help  ourselves,"  answered  Mrs. 
Mackenzie;  "but  you  are  different." 

"Not  at  all.  I  do  not  mean  or  wish  to  be  differ 
ent.  I  will  help  myself  when  I  can,  and  when  I 
cannot  if  you  will  allow  me  to  come  to  you  for  ad 
vice  I  shall  be  very  glad.  We  wish  in  every  sense 
to  be  treated  as  one  of  you." 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Mackenzie,  rising,  with  a  smile, 
"  I  will  begin  at  once  and  say  as  I  would  if  you  were 
one  of  us,  that  I  must  go  to  work  ;  I  have  lingered  too 
long  already." 

"And  I  too,"  said  his  wife,  taking  up  the  letters 
and  packages ;  "  I  must  read  and  answer  these  letters, 
examine  these  manuscripts,  and  correct  proofs  steadily 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  49 

all  day.  But  it  seems  rather  rude  to  leave  you  quite 
to  your  own  devices  the  first  day  of  your  stay  here." 

"  O,  do  not  mind  us !  We  have  letters  to  write  that 
will  keep  us  busy." 

The  Bishop  was  opening  an  Indian  Review  that 
his  host  had  handed  him,  and  made  no  answer.  Just 
as  Mrs.  Mackenzie  was  vanishing  through  the  door 
she  heard  the  familiar  sound  of  the  little  tom-tom  with 
which  the  jugglers  always  announce  their  coming. 

"  O,"  said  she,  witli  a  sigh  of  despair,  "how  the 
whole  city  can  find  out  in  one  night  that  the  'Lord 
Bishop  Sahib '  has  come  is  more  than  I  have  ever 
been  able  to  discover.  This  man  is  only  a  forerunner 
of  the  visitors  you  will  have  to-day  and  every  day 
for  a  week." 

"What  is  it?"  said  the  Bishop,  laying  down  his 
book. 

"Ouly-a  man  with  a  performing  monkey,  a  cobra. 
and  a  mongoose.  The  mongoose  will  kill  the  snake, 
and  the  man  will  swallow  marbles  and  yards  of  cloth 
and  twine,  and  yon  will  find  them  floating  in  the  air, 
besides  doing  other  things  too  numerous  to  mention. 
Will  you  see  him  ?  If  you  have  not  time  for  him  I 
will  send  him  away." 

The  Bishop  hesitated,  said  he  must  write  letters, 
looked  at  the  muii,  who  sat  down  on  the  ground  drawing 
various  curious  things  out  of  a  bag — and  was  lost.  An 
Indian  juggler  reads  a  face  as  an  open  book,  and  he 
knew  that  the  new  Sahib  was  longing  to  see  what  he 
could  do,  nnd  consequently  hurried  his  operations. 
Lillian  and  Katie  came  running  from  the  garden  at 
the,  to  Katie,  well-known  sound  of  the  tom-tom. 

"Ah,  I  suppose  one  really  must  see  the  Indian 


50  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

jugglers  in  order  to  judge  of  the  customs  of  the 
people,"  lie  said,  in  lame  excuse  of  his  desire  to  see  a 
tamasha. 

And  he,  as  well  as  his  wife,  was  soon  absorbed  in 
watching  the  sleight-of-hand  of  a  second-rate  juggler. 
First  the  man  pulled  out  of  his  bag,  by  the  tail,  a 
cobra,  a  hideous,  slimy,  creepy  cobra,  that  proceeded 
to  make  a  spiral  coil  of  the  latter  half  of  himself, 
while  the  former  and  bigger  part  he  raised  up  in  a 
straight,  swaying  column,  with  the  vile  hooded  head 
turning  viciously  about.  The  children  retreated  with 
a  scream  behind  Mrs.  Clinton,  from  whence  they 
peeped  out  fascinated  in  spite  of  their  fear.  Then 
the  mongoose  came  out  with  his  mouth  covered  with 
red  powder,  and  followed  the  snake,  which  quk'tly 
and  indifferently  moved  off,  but  finding  itself  in  a 
corner  at  the  end  of  the  step  turned  and  made  a 
lunge  at  its  enemy,  who  darted  on  it,  setting  its 
teetli  sharply  in  the  sleazy  hood.  The  cobra  strug 
gled  a  little,  and  then  fell  down  flat,  apparently 
dead,  and  the  mongoose  ran  behind  the  basket  the 
man  had  and  began  eating  something  tossed  to  him 
by  his  master. 

Hearing  a  sigh  of  relief,  Mrs.  Clinton  turned  to 
find  Lillian  pale  and  shaking  with  terror  and  Katie 
drawing  a  long  breath. 

"  O,"  said  Katie,  "how  I  <l<>nt  like  to  see  the 
snake ! " 

They  all  laughed  at  her  way  of  putting  it,  but  felt 
that  it  expressed  their  feelings  exactly. 

"Mother,"  whispered  Lillian,  shivering,  "Katie 
says  that  her  mother  found  a  snake  like  this  in  the 
house  one  night,  only  it  was  much  biggt  r." 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  51 

"  Never  mind,  darling,  we  will  try  not  to  find  any 
while  we  are  here."  But  Lillian  was  still  quivering 
with  fear. 

"Mamma,  it  is  so  horrible  !  I  should  die  if  I  saw 
one  in  our  room." 

"  Katie,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  "  when  your  mother 
found  the  cobra  was  she  afraid  of  it,  or  was  it  afraid 
of  her  ? " 

Katie  laughed.  "  I  think  both  of  them  were  afraid, 
for  mamma  ran  to  get  a  servant  to  kill  it,  and  the 
snake  ran  away  also.  They  both  ran,  so  they  were 
both  afraid." 

"  Do  you  see,  Lillian,  the  snake  would  be  afraid  of 
us  as  much  as  we  of  him.  But  look  at  the  juggler; 
see  what  he  is  doing  !  " 

First  he  beat  the  little  tom-tom,  then  he  drew  out 
a  monkey's  skull,  put  it  before  him  with  a  tender 
care,  and  said  to  it  in  Urdu,  "  Take  care  of  my  luck." 
Seeing  the  Bishop  about  to  turn  away  he  hastily  held 
up  a  mango  seed.  That  never  failed  to  hold  a  new 
comer. 

"  This,"  he  said  in  Urdu,  "will  be  planted,  will 
sprout,  and  will  bring  forth  fruit  before  the  Lord  Sa 
hib's  eyes,  if  he  will  wait  to  see." 

Katie  glibly  translated  this,  and  the  Bishop  sat 
down,  saying  as  the  man  dug  up  the  dry  earth  : 

"  That,  indeed,  will  be  worth  seeing." 

After  having  planted  the  seed  the  man  covered  it 
up  with  a  large,  tall  basket,  then  he  patted  the  mon 
key's  skull,  called  on  the  monkey  god  llanuman,  who 
is  the  presiding  deity  of  all  jugglers,  to  see  that  it 
grew  fast,  because  the  great  and  wonderful  Sahib, 
whose  fame  had  traveled  the  world  over,  was  waiting 


52  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

to  see  what  he  could  do.  "While  it  was  growing  the 
two  monkeys  were  brought  around  and  fought  as 
man  and  wife,  quarreled,  then  made  up  and  kissed, 
the  wife  slyly  rubbing  the  kisses  off  when  her  lord 
was  not  observing.  Once  more  beating  the  torn-ton), 
once  more  patting  the  monkey's  skull,  and  naming 
Han  u  in  an,  the  man  with  a  great  nourish  lifted  the 
basket  and  cried : 

"Dekho!"  ("Behold!") 

Then  the  Bishop  beheld  and  marveled,  for  there 
was  a  mango  sprout  three  inches  high.  The  basket 
went  over  it  again,  and  this  time  the  man  began  swal 
lowing  various  things  and  pulling  them  out  of  ear 
and  nose  and  mouth.  He  first  opened  his  mouth 
so  that  it  could  be  seen  plainly  that  a  ball  of  ribbon 
actually  went  down  his  throat,  and  then  pulled  it  out 
from  his  nose,  reeling  it  off  by  the  yard.  Then,  his 
mouth  full  of  paper  shavings,  he  spurted  fire  from  his 
nostrils. 

After  this  the  ball  trick  came  in  order,  and  he 
threw  up  a  dozen  balls,  catching  them  regularly  and 
throwing  them  up  again;  then  a  row  of  cups,  and 
the  disappearance  of  rupees  which  were  found  under 
the  cups,  where  the  Bishop  declared  they  could  not  be. 

Now  he  took  a  cup  of  water  and  watered  the  plant 
under  the  basket,  then  did  the  trick  of  balls  again  and 
again.  After  this  more  tricks  with  the  monkeys ;  then, 
with  the  same  call  to  Hanuman  and  the  tap  on  the 
monkey's  skull,  he  lifted  the  basket,  crving: 

"Dekho!" 

There  was  a  tree,  O,  unbelieving  Bishop  and  Mrs. 
Bishop,  growing  before  your  eyes,  thriving  and  prom 
ising,  and  this  juggler  smiled  a  smile,  for  there  was 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  53 

enough  wonder  and  delight  on  the  good  Bishop's  face 
almost  to  repay  him  for  his  trouble,  and  even  the 
skeptical  wife  thought  that  this  was  one  of  the  "more 
tilings  than  were  dreamed  of  in  Horatio's  philoso- 

pfcy" 

Kow  the  Bishop  began  to  think  of  his  letters,  and 
gave  the  man  some  pice,  who  went  out  just  as  a 
swarm  of  other  men  came  in  at  the  gate — men  in  dirty 
white  with  great  bundles  on  their  heads,  followed  by 
other  men  in  clean  clothes,  wearing  dark  blue  and  gray 
pugris,  dark  woolen  coat  and  white  trousers,  and 
with  sticks  in  their  hands.  Katie  explained  that  they 
were  cloth  merchants  with  beautiful  shawls  and  rugs 
and  gold -and  silver  embroideries  from  Cashmere. 

"  They  sell  them  cheap,  very  cheap,"  the  child 
said,'  translating  literally.  "And  they  have  risen 
up  early  and  come  at  once  because  the  great  name 
of  the  Lord  Bishop  Sahib  had  gone  abroad  through 
the  land  and  reached  them  ;  and  because  they  wished 
him  to  sec  good  things,  well  made  and  cheap,  and 
also  because  they  feared  other  merchants,  who  were 
thieves  and  rascals,  would  impose  on  his  good  heart, 
for  this  they  had  hurried  and  come." 

"  Ah,"  murmured  the  Bishop,  "  very  kind  and 
considerate,  but  quite  unnecessary,  as  we  do  not  wish 
to  buy.  Tell  him  so,  little  girl/' 

"  But  no,  did  not  the  Lord  Bishop  wish  to  buy  ? 
That  was  nothing.  It  would  be  more  pleasure  to 
show  these  beautiful  things  to  so  great  and  good 
a  man,  whose  fame  had  traveled  so  far  against  even 
the  wind,  than  to  sell  to  people  of  lower  caste ;  and 
also  to  the  great  Sahib's  honored  wife,  her  who  knew 
so  well  the  value  of  all  the  beautiful  things  of  the 


54:  THE  UISIIOP'S  CONVERSION. 

East;  her  appreciation  of  his  tilings  would  quite  re 
pay  his  trouble."  As  he  talked  he  unrolled  soft  white 
shawls,  glittering  gold  and  beetle-wing  embroidery, 
gauzy  draperies,  dull,  soft,  silky-looking  rugs  of  ex 
quisite  colors,  tiger  and  leopard  skins,  black  curly  as 
trakhan  skins,  and  those  less  curly  and  smaller,  taken 
from  the  goat  at  its  birth,  and  watched  the  admiring 
looks  cast  on  them  and  heard  the  expressions  of  ad 
miration  with  concealed  triumph,  for  Mrs.  Clinton 
could  not  forbear  sighs  and  exclamations  of  delight 
even  had  she  known  that  the  wily  merchant  was  taking 
stock  of  them  and  adding  five  rupees  for  every  sigh 
and  ten  for  every  exclamation  to  the  price  he  in 
tended  to  ask.  The  veranda  soon  looked  like  a  shop, 
and  there  was  not  a  place  where  one  could  put  one's 
foot  on  the  floor  without  treading  on  beautiful 
things. 

The  moments  fled,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  decided  she 
must  have  a  few  things  for  her  house,  for  even  mis 
sionaries  must  have  curtains  and  table-covers,  and  she 
began  pricing  things,  and  found  to  her  surprise  that 
these  "exquisite,  lovely,  transcendent"  things  would 
cost  only  what  she  had  paid  for  ugly,  hideous,  inartis 
tic  things  of  Western  manufacture,  and  she  wondered 
how  she  had  ever  endured  them.  The  merchant,  now 
that  Katie  and  Lillian  had  disappeared  in  the  garden, 
developed  a  very  good  use  of  the  English  tongue,  and 
told  her  that  he  was  only  asking  half  that  a  Mem  Sahib 
in  the  next  house  had  paid  him,  because  he  had  heard 
of  her  great  kindness  to  the  poor.  So  she  selected  a 
half  dozen  things,  laid  them  out,  and  was  about  to  pay 
for  them,  when  Mrs.  Mackenzie  appeared  on  the 
scene  and  with  a  gasp  stopped  her.  The  merchants 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  55 

did  not  look  happy  at  her  coming.  "What  they  like 
and  gloat  over  is  a  raw,  untried  "globe-trotter"  without 
any  of  those  mean  people  who  have  lived  a  long  time 
in  the  country  and  understand  things.  Mrs.  Macken 
zie  asked  quickly  what  she  was  going  to  pay,  and 
turned  sharply,  saying  to  the  man  in  Ilindoostanee : 

"Why  have  you  come  to  my  house  to  rob  my 
friends  ?  Do  you  expect  I  will  ever  buy  from  you  or 
allow  you  to  come  into  my  house  again  ? " 

"  Pardon,  pardon,  Mem  Sahib,"  and  his  hands  came 
together  in  the  usual  form  of  supplication  ;  "I,  as  is 
our  custom,  told  her  the  first  price,  which  is,  as  you 
know,  and  also  all  wise  Mem  Sahibs  like  you,  only  the 
talking  price.  But  she,  not  waiting  to  ask  the  true 
price,  said  she  would  pay  it.  There  was,  of  course, 
nothing  for  me  to  do.  It  would  ill  become  me,  a  poor 
man  and  a  humble,  to  correct  so  great  a  Mem  Sahib, 
who  should  know  far  more  than  I." 

Mis.  Mackenzie  laughed  as  she  translated  to  her 
friends,  who  laughed  also,  but  not  with  full  enjoy 
ment.  The  person  lives  not  who  likes  to  be  thor 
oughly  "done  "  in  a  bargain. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  turning  to  the  head 
merchant,  "tell  me  exactly  the  right  price,  or  I  will 
not  allow  you  to  come  here  again.  Remember,  the 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth." 

"Certainly,  Mem  Sahib.  Of  coarse,  if  she  had 
asked  for  the  truth  I  would  have  told  her,  as  I  no\v 
tell  you  at  once  on  your  own  asking.  For  all  these  fino 
things,  the  table-cover,  the  tea-cozy,  the  curtains,  I  ask 
her  the  true  price,  and  Allah  be  my  witness  that  I  say 
true  words ; "  and  he  named  jnst  half  he  had  asked 
Mrs.  Clinton. 


56  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  O,  you  rascal ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  exasperation, 
';  how  could  you  have  had  the  heart  to  cheat  me  so  ? " 

He  heard  as  one  who  hears  not,  but  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie  said :  "  She  will  give  you  two  thirds  of  your 
selling  price,  not  one  pice  more.  Remember,  I  know 
what  these  tilings  are  worth." 

"  No,  no ; "  and  the  man  shook  his  head  angrily  ;  "  I 
am  a  poor  man,  and  now  it  is  you  that  wish  to  rob  me. 
I  have  spent  my  morning  for  nothing,  and  I  will  go  ; " 
and  he  began  hurriedly  to  gather  up  the  things  and 
roll  them  together  with  a  great  show  of  indignation. 
Mrs.  Clinton  was  ashamed,  and  she,  as  well  as  her  hus 
band,  thought  Mrs.  Mackenzie  had  been  a  little  hard 
on  the  man,  but  she  smiled  at  them,  and,  when  his  back 
was  turned,  pointed  to  the  things  which  he  had  put 
aside  in  a  little  heap  while  he  packed  the  remainder 
of  his  goods.  Then  he  begged  for  the  price  he  had 
named,  said  he  was  giving  them  away  even  at  that 
price  ;  that  they  had  wasted  his  morning,  and,  as  a  last 
plea,  he  was  "a  poor  man  with  many  children,  whose 
stomachs  were  always  empty,  and  always  crying  for 
food." 

And  again  her  guests  wondered  at  Mrs.  Mackenzie's 
hard-heartedness,  wished  there  had  been  nothing  said, 
and  that  they  had  paid  his  price  without  any  parley. 
The  man  took  the  things  in  his  hand  with  a  sour  face, 
put  them  in  his  pack,  salaamed  to  all,  and  went  off. 
There  was  a  silence  on  the  veranda,  the  Bishop 
visibly  disgusted,  Mrs.  Clinton  half  inclined  to  call 
the  man  back,  and  Mrs.  Mackenzie  tranquil. 

When  half  way  to  the  gate  the  merchant  turned, 
came  back  smiling,  and  begged  the  great  Mem  Sahib 
to  take  them  at  her  own  price,  saying  that  he  well 


JUGGLER  AND  SHAWL  MERCHANT.  57 

knew  that  Mrs.  Mackenzie  was  of  a  hard  nature  and 
would  never  pay  more  than  was  right. 

"And  O,  brother,"  said  she,  in  Ilindoostanee,  "do 
I  ever  pay  less,  or  even  try  to  make  you  take  less 
than  is  just?" 

"  Xever.  The  Mem  Sahib  is  just,  and  I  shall  ever 
intercede  with  Allah  for  her  long  life." 

They  all  had  a  laugh  when  she  translated,  and  the 
l>ishop  said,  looking  at  his  \vatch  : 

"  Where  is  the  morning  gone  ?  I  have  not  written 
my  letters." 

lie  was  hurrying  away  when  Mackenzie  entered, 

v  O  v  * 

and  Mrs.  Mackenzie  said  : 

"  We  have  been  waiting  breakfast  for  you  as 
nsnal." 

"Yes,  but  a  man  came  that  wanted  two  thousand 
tracts,  and  I  had  to  help  select  them,  and  I  had  to 
finish  an  editorial  and  go  to  the  bank  for  treasury 
money,  as  Clark  has  been  worrying  me  for  his  allow 
ance  in  advance.  There  is  so  much  sickness  in  a 
native  Christian  village  near  him  that  he  wants  his 
own  allowance  to  lend  to  them  in  installments." 

"And  how  will  he  live?"  asked  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"On  his  good  name,  and  trust  to  getting  his  money 
back  ;  the  latter,  however,  is  not  so  certain  as  the  for 
mer.  But  let  us  have  breakfast,  for  I  have  five  men 
up  there  now  waiting  for  me." 

"Are  these  men  Christian  inquirers?" 

"  Xo,  indeed ;  /  *  serve  the  tables  and  carry  the 
money  bag.'  I  have  to  leave  the  pleasanter  work  of 
the  mission  to  those  who  cnnnot  do  this  and  can  do 
that ;  for,  strange  to  say,  I  have  no  time  for  personal 
mission  work." 


58  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

The  Bishop  looked  and  felt  severe.  There  was 
something  wrong  when  a  missionary  had  no  time  for 
personal  work. 

"  But,"  Mr.  Mackenzie  went  on,  "  I  console  myself 
for  not  doing  the  pleasantest  work  by  the  fact  that 
other  people  could  not  do  it  either  were  I  not  doing 
what  I  am.  I  make  it  possible  for  them  to  do  a  good 
deal  of  personal  work  through  the  KanTtdb-i-Hind,  the 
Rafif-i-Nigwan,  and  all  the  other  monthly  and  weekly 
papers  we  publish  ;  I  myself  speak  to  a  large  number 
through  the  paper  which  I  edit;  so  perhaps  after  all  I 
do  a  little  personal  work,  though  I  always  think  of  my 
paper  as  my  recreation  and  not  my  work,  as  I  do  most 
of  it  in  the  evening,  after  the  day  is  well  over." 


59 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  MISSIONARY    PRINTING    PRESS. 

4  FTER  a  plain  breakfast  of  cracked  wheat,  mutton 
_O_  chops,  potatoes,  and  fniit  Air.  Mackenzie  per- 
suaded  the  Bishop  to  leave  his  letters  and  go  up  to  the 
mission  publishing  house  with  him. 

"  It  is  only  a  short  walk,  so  you  can  spend  a  half- 
hour  there  and  still  have  time  for  your  letters,"  he 
said,  taking  up  his  white-covered  umbrella,  and  also  a 
white-Covered  cork  hat,  looking  dubiously  the  while 
at  the  soft  felt  which  the  Bishop  as  usual  put  on  his 
head. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ;  have  you  no  umbrella  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  not  need  it,  for  certainly  there  is  no 
indication  of  rain,"  answered  the  Bishop,  looking  up 
at  the  cloudless  sky. 

"Hardly,"  with  a  smile,  "and  there  will  not  be  un 
til  we  have  longed  for  it  many  and  many  a  weary  day  ; 
but  you  require  an  umbrella  to  protect  you  from  the 
sun." 

"  You  cannot  be  in  earnest,  for  I  feel  really  cold, 
and  I  would  be  glad  of  a  warmer  sun  than  this." 

"  For  your  feet  and  leirs  it  might  be  M'ell  to  have  a 

t/  O  O 

warmer  sun,  but  not  for  your  head,"  Mackenzie  an 
swered  decidedly,  "  and  I  have  another  umbrella, 
which  I  will  get  for  you." 

"  Xo,"  waving  his  hand,  "  I  do  not  require  it." 


60  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Then  let  me  get  you  a  sola  topi  like  mine,"  indi 
cating  his  ugly  pith  hat. 

"No,  no,"  impatiently,  "let  us  proceed  ;  we  are 
wasting  time." 

Mr.  Mackenzie  looked  troubled,  but  opened  his 
umbrella  and  moved  on. 

"  The  native  of  this  country,  I  have  observed,"  re 
marked  the  Bishop,  "goes  without  "other  covering 
than  a  little  embroidered  cap,  and  if  foreigners  would 
accustom  themselves  to  the  sun  gradually  no  doubt 
they  would  be  stronger  and  would  more  quickly  be 
come  acclimated ;  and  as-  the  walk  is  short  it  is  a  good 
moment  for  me  to  begin  my  acclimatization." 

Mi1.  Mackenzie  said  nothing.  It  was  not  the  first  time 
he  had  had  the  philosophy  of  the  Indian  climate  ex 
plained  and  advice  given  to  him  in  regard  to  it  by 
people  who  were  new  to  it,  nor,  he  knew,  would  it  be 
the  last ;  and  the  Bishop  was  not  the  first  man  who 
had  been  given  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  expe 
rience.  His  host  could  only  hope  these  same  tender 
mercies  would  not  be  cruel. 

The  walk  was  not  long,  and  when  they  arrived  at 
the  back  entrance  of  the  Publishing  House  they  were 
in  no  way  conscious  of  heat,  but  the  veins  on  the 
Bishop's  forehead  stood  out,  and  there  was  a  flush  on 
his  face  and  a  peculiar  brightness  in  his  eyes  that  told 
a  well-known  story.  lie  was  conscious  of  a  confusion 
of  head,  and  a  curious  faint  feeling  which  he  could 
not  explain,  and  had  never  before  experienced,  but  he 
was  not  in  the  least  heated,  and  was  rather  loath  to 
leave  the  bright  sunshine  for  the  damp,  cold  printing 
house.  They  passed  through  a  high  gate,  which  was 
unlocked  by  an  obsequious,  weather-beaten  looking 


A   MISSIONARY  PRINTING  PRESS.  61 

native  who  was  night  and  day  watchman,  and  one  of 
whose  duties  was  to  search  every  man  who  passed  out, 
to  see  if  he  were  carrying  off  type,  or  books,  or  pa 
pers  to  sell  in  the  bazar. 

"  This  is  shocking,"  cried  the  Bishop ;  "  do  you 
expect  to  make  Christians  of  men  when  on  the  face  of 
it  you  show  you  do  not  trust  them  ?  I  must  say  I 
cannot  approve  of  your  policy  in  this." 

"  If  I  give  it  up  will  you  promise  to  present  us  with 
a  new  outfit  of  type  in  six  months?"  asked  Macken 
zie,  dryly. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  decided  answer,  "  I  will  do  so,  for 
I  have  not  so  low  an  estimate  of  human  nature 
that  I  cannot  think  it  better  to  put  men  on  their 
honor." 

"  Very  well,  I  will  not  begin  the  experiment  until 
you  have  been  here  two  months ;  then  if  you  still  ad 
vise  it,  agreeing  to  give  us  new  type  if  we  need  it,  I 
wrill  try  your  plan  for  six  months." 

It  may  be  said,  by  the  way,  that  when  the  time  had 
expired  he  did  not  advise  the  change,  and  the  matter 
was  never  referred  to  again. 

At  one  side  of  the  large  yard  were  many  litho 
graphic  stones  drying  in  the  sun  ;  back  of  them  was  a 
pile  of  wood  for  firing  the  little  engine ;  near  the  door 
a  cart  drawn  by  two  white  oxen,  from  which  were  be 
ing  unloaded  huge  parcels  of  paper  just  brought  from 
the  paper  mill.  Through  the  open  door  could  be  seen 
the  engine,  and  a  native  engineer  in  English  dress. 

O  J  O  O 

Entering,  they  saw  a  long  dim  room  full  of  dusky 
figures  busy  setting  type  and  printing  from  small  hand- 
presses.  One  or  two  men  were  at  work  at  the  little 
steam  press,  rolling  off  weekly  papers,  one  of  which 
5 


62  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

was  presented  to  the  Bishop  with  a  low  salaam,  by  a 
half-naked  man  ;  another,  with  the  ink  still  fresh  from 
a  lithographic  hand-press,  was  also  presented  to  him 
in  the  same  manner.  Mr.  Mackenzie  informed  him 
that  they  had  as  yet  no  type  for  the  Urdu  language 
in  the  Persian  character,  though  there  was  plenty  of 
Koman  Urdu  printed;  and  he  pointed  to  a  man  sitting 
on  the  floor  writing  Urdu  on  a  stone,  with  a  pen  made 
from  the  hard  stalk  of  knsi  grass. 

On  a  little  platform  before  them  all  sat  the  English 
manager  of  the  printing  department,  surrounded  by 
proof  readers,  who,  by  virtue  of  English  education, 
were  sitting  on  chairs. 

"The  strangest  thing  about  these  typesetters,"  said 
Mackenzie,  "  is  that  they  can  read  neither  English  nor 
their  own  language,  but  can  set  type  equally  well  in 
both." 

"  Surprising  ;  and  they  are  heathen  ?  " 

"Most  are  what  you  would  call  heathen;  the  re 
mainder  are  Mohammedans  and  Christians." 

"  And  the  Christians,  of  course,  do  better  work 
than  the  Hindoos  and  Mohammedans?" 

Mackenzie  smiled.  "  The  truth  is  best ;  among  ed 
ucated  Christians  they  do,  but  among  printers,  with  a 
few  exceptions,  they  do  not,  but  not  because  they  are 
Christians.  There  are  several  reasons,"  he  said,  after 
introducing  the  manager,  Mr.  Board,  and  the  proof 
readers  to  the  Bishop,  "why  Christian  printers  give 
less  satisfaction  than  the  others.  The  driftwood  of 
the  Christian  community  comes  here.  I  take  many 
of  them  in,  not  because  they  do  gcod  work,  but  be 
cause  they  are  Christians ;  and  there  are  various 
kinds  of  Christians  among  these  people,  as  in  other 


A  MISSIONARY  PRINTING  PRESS.  63 

countries.  But  will  you  look  at  our  stereotyping 
room  ? "  and  lie  pointed  to  a  closet  where  a  man 
stood  with  a  stick  patiently  pounding  the  stereotyp 
ing  paper  over  the  form.  Then  he  took  a  dish  of 
melted  lead,  put  the  form  into  a  little  hand-machine, 
poured  the  lead  into  it,  and  presto  !  one  page  was 
stereotyped. 

"This  is  going  back  to  the  Middle  Ages,  Bish 
op." 

"Altogether  tco  much  so.  You  must  get  out  a 
modern  electrotyping  outfit  from  New  York.  I  am 
surprised  that  you  can  tolerate  this  kind  of  work." 

"  I  am  only  too  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  All  we 
lack  is  money  to  pay  for  it.  But  look  at  our  book 
binding  department,  and  see  what  you  think  of  that," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  left  and  entering  a  large,  long 
room  at  one  end  of  which  a  dozen  men  were  sitting 
on  the  floor  with  common  table-knives,  pastepots,  and 
balls  of  fine  twine  binding  books. 

Mackenzie  picked  up  some  very  neat-looking  books. 
"  Not  bad-looking  work,  considering  the  means." 

"  I  could  not  have  believed  they  would  have  looked 
so  well.  They  are  a  clever  lot  of  men,  though  they 
do  not  have  exactly  that  appearance,"  said  the  Bishop  ; 
"but  it  is  too  slow,  too  primitive.  We  must  have  all 
this  changed  at  once." 

"  They  ought  to  do  them  well,  for  they  have  done 
ten  thousand  of  these  same  books  this  year,"  said 
Mackenzie,  ignoring  his  guest's  criticism. 

At  the  other  end  little  half-dressed  boys  were 
folding  periodicals  fresh  from  the  press.  As  they 
passed  these  all  rose  and  salaamed,  for  they  too  had 
heard  of  the  Bara  Sahib's  coming,  and  hoped  in  a 


64  THE  BISHOP'S  OO.NVKKSIO.N. 

vague  way  for  some  advantage  from  his  presence. 
Then  to  the  packing  room,  where  three  or  four  men 
were  putting  up  cases  of  tracts  and  schoolbooks, 
Bibles  and  weekly  and  monthly  papers  for  mission 
aries  in  out  districts. 

"  They  are  sent  from  one  end  of  India  to  the  other. 
These  two  cases,"  looking  at  the  address,  said  Macken 
zie,  "go  to  two  earnest,  hard-working  men  two  thou 
sand  miles  apart ;  one  eight  days'  march  in  the  inte 
rior  of  the  Himalaya  Mountains,  and  the  other  south 
of  Madras.  This,"  pointing  to  another,  "  will  go  to 
Kurrachi,  and  that  to  Rangoon — I  am  afraid  to  say 
how  many  miles  apart — at  least  three  thousand  by 
water.  'Not  only  so  many  miles  apart,  but  they  will 
do  a  work  among  people  as  widely  different  in  their 
habits  and  customs  as  any  two  peoples  you  know. 
These  parcels  of  tracts  go  here  and  there  all  over 
India.  It  is  rather  an  unpretending  place,  but  we 
send  out  more  parcels  and  packages  than  any  other 
business  house  in  Lucknow.  We  preach  to  thousands 
and  thousands  every  week,  and  when  I  think  of  that, 
think  that  we  are  the  only  ones  that  can  or  ever  will 
reach  thousands  of  people  whose  need  is  so  great  that 
they  are  unconscious  of  any  need,  I  am  content  to  do 
my  work  though  there  are  trials  and  worries  enough 
connected  with  it  to  drive  a  man  nearly  mad.  ^sow," 
he  said,  as  he  led  the  Bishop  straight  through  a  large 
room  with  several  clerks  in  native  dress  sitting  at  desks, 
"  let  us  look  at  the  shop,  and  then  we  will  come  back 
and  talk  over  these  things  aftur  I  have  dispersed  these 
men,"  indicating  a  dozen  men  who  stood  around  a 

7  O 

desk  shivering  in  their  cotton  clothes. 

The  front  shop  was  lined  with  bookcases  filled  with 


A    MISSIONARY  PKINTING  Pin:--.  05 

books,  chiefly  English  stories,  travels,  biographies,  and 
history.  The  tables  in  the  center  of  the  room  were 
covered  with  books  in  Urdu,  Hindi,  and  Bengalee, 
and  some  showcases  had  Christmas  and  Scripture 
cards,  inkstands,  and  all  the  usual  stationery  found  in 
bookstores. 

"  The  sales  of  this  room  pay  for  a  number  of  the 
clerks,"  said  Mackenzie,  "besides  having  a  distinct 
work  of  their  own  to  do  ;  for  when  I  have  put  a  good 
book  in  a  man's  hand  I  believe  I  have  done  him  a  great 
and  lasting  favor." 

o 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop ;  "  I  agree  with  you  on 
that;"  but  there  was  a  commercial  look  and  sound  to 
much  of  this  that  lie  did  not  like,  though  he  did  not  say 
so.  lie  was  not  quite  ready  to  formulate  his  opinion. 

"  Xow  here,"  said  Mackenzie,  as  they  went  back 
to  the  large  desk  in  the  inner  room,  "is  my  work 
shop,  and  here  I  spend  the  greater  part  of  my  waking 
hours.  Here  is  a  report,"  handing  him  a  pamphlet, 
"which  will  tell  you  that  last  year  we  sent  out  twenty- 
four  millions  of  pages,  and  two  hundred  thousand  of 
them  free,  besides  a  good  many  things  in  it  which  you 
iniiy  find  interesting." 

"Now,  Chunga  Xath,  what  is  it?"  he  said  to  the 
man  nearest  him. 

"Your  honor.  I  must  have  more  pay  for  binding 
your  books,  else  I  will  give  up  the  job." 

"Did  you  not  sign  a  contract  for  just  what  you 
are  now  getting  ?  " 

"Yes,  your  honor,  but  lam  a  poor  man  with  a 
large  family,  and  I  must  have  more." 

"Am  I  not  pitying  you  more  than  you  could  get 
at  any  other  place  (  " 


66  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Your  honor,  I  am  a  poor  man,  and  my  children 
must  have  bread." 

"  Answer  my  question,  brother  ;  am  I  or  am  I  not 
paying  you  more  than  you  could  get  at  any  other 
place?" 

"  Yes,  your  honor,"  sulkily. 

"  And  are  you  not  coming  now  to  ask  for  more 
because  you  know  that  the  books  are  very  much 
needed,  and  not  because  it  is  just  or  right  ? " 

No  answer,  but  the  man  stood  first  on  one  foot  and 
then  on  the  other. 

"Answer  me,  if  you  can;  if  not,  go  about  your 
work  and  give  me  no  more  trouble.  I  have  the 
written  contract,  and  can  compel  you  to  do  your 
work  well  and  in  time."  Then  Mackenzie  trans 
lated  this  to  the  Bishop,  and  the  man  slunk  off,  one 
end  of  his  dirty  kamarband  trailing  on  the  ground, 
and  his  dirty  pugri  having  a  discouraged  look  that 
rather  appealed  to  the  man  who  was  having  his  ideas 
of  mission  work  so  upset  and  overhauled  by  what  he 
was  seeing  that  he  was  not  sure  he  was  the  same  man 
that  had  preached  missionary  sermons,  portraying 
graphically  the  sufferings  of  the  imaginary  mission 
ary  ;  bnt  surely  he  had  never  thought  for  a  minute 
that  dealing  with  dishonest  contractors  M'as  one  of 
their  trials. 

"  Now,  Charn  Lai,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Preserver  of  the  Poor,  I  am  sick  and  cannot  work." 

Mackenzie  looked  at  him  sharply,  felt  his  pulse, 
put  his  hand  on  his  forehead,  then  said,  "  What  is 
the  matter  ? " 

"  I  have  fever,  your  honor,  and  I  will  go  to  my 
home  and  lie  in  my  bed." 


A  MISSIONARY  PRINTING  PRESS.  67 

Mackenzie  opened  a  drawer,  took  out  a  clinical  ther 
mometer,  put  it  under  the  man's  tongue,  bade  him 
keep  his  mouth  shut,  and  turned  to  his  head  clerk,  who 
had  brought  a  handful  of  letters  and  bills;  he  took 
them  from  him,  read  them  rapidly  over,  signed  some, 
returned  two  or  three  for  correction,  and  then  looked 
at  the  thermometer. 

"Charn  Lai,  you  have  been  telling  a  jhutli  bat. 
You  have  no  fever.  Xow  tell  me  the  truth.  Why 
did  you  want  to  go  away  from  your  work  when  you 
know  in  what  great  need  we  are  to  have  it  done 
quickly?  The  truth  now,  brother;"  and  he  smiled  at 
him  in  a  genial  way. 

The  hands  came  together. 

"Pardon  me,  Protector  of  the  Poor.  My  brother 
is  making  his  wedding  to-dav,  and  my  heart  bids  me 

go." 

"  Why  did  not  your  heart  bid  you  tell  the  truth  ? 
Xo,  you  cannot  go.  You  have  been  away  already 
this  month  so  many  days  that  your  family  will  suffer 
for  bread.  It'  it  were  only  you  that  would  suffer  I 
would  let  you  go.  Kow,  David,  what  do  you  want? " 
This  was  said  in  English. 

"  Sir,  I  in  debt.  The  man  come  take  my  cooking 
vr>scl.>,  and  I  beg  you  to  give  me  nine  rupees  that  I 
p»y  him,  for  if  I  have  not  the  cooking  vessels  how 
can  the  woman  cook?" 

'•Why  are  you  in  debt?" 

"Sir,  I  make  my  marriage,  and  I  a  very  poor 
man,  and  I  get  much  in  debt  of  necessity  when  I 
make  marriage ;  and  my  wife  is  now  all  fool,  and  I 
am  not  advantaged  by  her,  and  all  time  men  come 
and  take  away  clothes  for  debt." 


68  TFIK   BISHOP'S  CONVKRSION. 

"This  is  bad,  but  you  mrty  go  now,  and  I  will  look 
into  the  matter." 

"David  is  a  Christian,  and  one  of  the  'weak 
brothers,'"  said  Mackenzie  to  his  visitor.  "We  will 
never  make  much  of  him,  but  lie  may  be  better  than 
if  he  had  been  left  to  himself.'' 

"And  here  is  Brown  again,"  he  said,  looking  at  a 
dark  man  in  English  dress.  "  How  are  you  getting 
on  with  your  work  ? " 

"  Not  very  well,  sir.  The  people  will  not  corne  to 
buy  of  me,  but  I  am  hoping  much,  as  my  prospects 
are  a  little  brighter,  sir.  There  is  a  very  respectable 
soldier  who  wishes  to  marry  one  of  my  daughter?, 
and  that  will  be  a  great  reduction  of  expense.  I 
have  come  to  ask  you  for  a  little  advance,  which  I 
will  try  to  return  next  week." 

Mr.  Mackenzie's  brow  contracted.  lie  was  not 
pleased. 

"  You  may  wait  outside,  and  I  will  give  you  an  an 
swer  soon.  Here,  Bishop,  give  me  the  benefit  of  your 
wisdom.  This  man  is  a  leper." 

"What?"  said  the  Bishop,  in  undisguised  horror. 

"Yes,  he  is  a  leper.  Did  you  not  see  that  one 
hand  was  gone?  Before  it  was  known,  lie  had  a 
position  as  bookkeeper,  at  three  hundred  rupees  per 
month.  He  was  discharged  because  of  this  disease, 
and  after  that  no  one  would  employ  him.  I,  with  the 
help  of  some  good  friends,  set  him  up  in  the  coal  busi 
ness  ;  but  he  says  people  will  not  buy.  I  fancy,  how 
ever,  that  he  has  not  energy  enough  to  make  it  go. 
Xow,  the  question  is  whether  to  give  the  man  an  ad 
vance  and  put  him  in  debt  to  me,  or,  as  I  have  given 
him  a  good  chance  to  help  himself,  let  him  know  once 


A  MISSIONARY  PRINTING  PRESS.  69 

for  all  that  I  cannot  support  him.  Tell  me  what  to 
do." 

The  Bishop  had  heard  little ;  he  had,  unnoticed, 
half  risen  at  the  word  "  leper,"  and  then  sank  back 
into  his  seat.  His  head,  confused  by  the  heat  of  the 
snn,  refused  to  think  clearly. 

"  Leprosy,  and  I  exposed  to  it !  It  is  all  very  well 
if  Mackenzie  chooses  to  help  a  creature  whose  pres 
ence  may  be  worse  than  death,  but  he  ought  not  to 
expose  others  to  it." 

"Mackenzie,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  a  little 
hoarse,  "what  right  have  you  to  expose  yourself  to 
such  a  disease?  You  should  consider  your  family  if 
you  do  not  care  for  yourself." 

The  Bishop  was  laboring  under  a  heavy  amount  of 
excitement,  Mackenzie  saw,  to  his  surprise.  Risking 
contagion  in  one  way  or  another  was  so  much  a  part 
of  his  general  work  that  he'hardly  thought  of  it,  and 
this  sharp  rebuke,  wrung  from  the  man  who  was  wip 
ing  the  perspiration  from  a  pale  face  that  had  been 
flushed  a  moment  before,  hurt  him  like  a  blow,  and, 
it  must  be  confessed,  stirred  his  contempt  a  little. 

"My  dear  Bishop,"  he  said,  before  he  had  time  to 
think,  "  if  you  are  to  be  a  missionary,  as  you  have 
said,  will  you  pick  and  choose  ?  "Will  you  run  at  the 
first  signal  of  danger?" 

There  was  silence,  and  the  face  that  had  paled 
at  the  thought  of  contagion  so  horrible,  now  was 
flushed. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Mackenzie  said,  "  but  you 
did  not  tell  me  what  to  do.  The  man  says  he  needs 
money  badly ;  I  have  the  certain  conviction  that  if  I 
begin  advancing  money  I  shall  have  to  keep  it  up,  for 


70  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

he  is  of  the  kind  that  likes  to  bo  supported,  or  refuse 
him  at  some  future  time.  The  question  is,  shall  I  re 
fuse  him  now,  or  after  he  had  drained  the  last  bit  of 
charity  money  I  have?  " 

The  Bishop  took  out  his  purse. 

"  Here  are  ten  rupees — give  them  to  him  ;  but  can 
you  not  hereafter  send  to  him,  write  to  him,  anything 
but  have  him  come  where  you  are  ?  " 

"I  will  give  him  five  and  keep  the  other  five  for 
another  time  of  need,  if  you  do  not  mind;"  and  he 
went  out,  gave  the  man  some  advice  as  to  trying 
harder,  and  told  him  he  must  try  to  pay  back  the  loan 
next  week. 

'"  Seriously,  when  you  can  send  to  a  man  like  that 
why  bring  him  here  among  all  these  people,  exposing 
them  as  well  as  yourself?  "  persisted  the  Bishop. 

"  Well,  it  is  difficult  to  manage,  and  lepers  are 
everywhere  about  the  city.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  do 
try  to  go  to  see  him  myself  once  a  week,  though  when 
he  gets  hard  up  he  comes  to  see  me.  Bnt  if  you 
think  one  can  do  much  work  for  the  people,  and  dodge 
all  disagreeable  things  and  all  dangers,  you  are  mis 
taken.  I  suppose  there  is  not  a  day  in  the  cold  weather 
that  I  am  not  exposed  to  smallpox.  Even  to-day  it 
is  probable  that  among  the  one  hundred  and  seventy 
men  employed  here  at  least  one  man  comes  with 
smallpox  infection  about  him,  and  I  feel  glad  if  no 
one  comes  with  the  actual  disease  upon  him,  for  it 
often  happens.  Then,  in  the  hot  season,  we  have 
cholera  for  a  change.  Do  you  see  there  ? "  and  ho 
opened  a  little  drawer,  showing  a  dozen  or  more  bot 
tles  labeled  "  Cholera  Mixture."  "  l.used  and  gave  to 
the  men  for  their  families  during  the  last  hot  season 


A    MlSSIOXAUV    I'lUXTIXCr    PKESS.  71 

four  c/jzen  of  these  bottles,  and  even  in  the  cold 
weather  a  man  now  and  then  comes  or  sends  to  me 
for  it." 

"  And  yon  expose  yourself  and  take  home  infection 
to  your  f  imily,  then,  every  day  in  the  year  (  " 

Mackenzie's  face  grew  grave  and  his  voice  was 
solemn  with  the  weight  of  deep  feeling: 

';  I  confess  to  you  that  when  I  think  of  my  family 
in  this  connection  I  do  not  find  it  pleasant  or  easy  to 
bear,  but  I  can  only  trust  them  as  I  trust  myself  to 
God's  tender  care.  I  have  given  myself  and  them 
into  his  hands,  and  the  result  is  with  him." 

His  questioner  was  rebuked,  and  as  he  reached 
over  and  grasped  the  hand  of  the  man  before  him, 
who  spoke  so  simply  of  these  terrors,  the  old  missionary 
spirit  which  had  been  in  him  as  a  young  man  rose  and 
sang  again  a  song  of  triumph ;  for  he  knew  Christ's 
kingdom  must  come  when  such  a  spirit  as  this  was  an 
everyday  matter.  He  well  knew  that  while  a  man 
may,  in  moments  of  great  danger,  easily  give  his  life 
once  for  all ;  while  he  may  gladly  suffer  even  martyr 
dom,  which  is  over  when  the  fire  at  the  stake  dies 
out,  yet  the  same  man  may  be  utterly  incapable  of 
an  hourly  giving  up  or  of  living  cheerfully  or  joy 
fully  through  constant  and  never-ending  danger.  lie 
knew,  too,  that  to  suffer  martyrdom  does  not  require 
the  entire  and  perfect  consecration  that  is  needed  to 
work  through  constant  depression  and  discouragement 
for  people  who  often  are  unworthy,  often  ungrateful, 
and  always  incapable  of  comprehending  the  greatness 
of  the  nature  that  gives  itself  for  them.  But  what 
was  this  sentence  haunting  him  ? 

"  While  I  do  not  for  a  moment  credit  all  that  has 


72  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

been  said  of  their  faults  and  deficiencies,  there  is  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  that  the  heroic  spirit  has  died  out 
of  missions  and  missionaries." 

He  had  said  it  in  the  pulpit,  and  he  had  written  it 
where  it  had  been  published.  It  had  sounded  well, 
but  he  would  now  give  much  if  he  could  blot  out 
the  remembrance  of  it  from  the  mind  of  everyone 
who  had  heard  or  read  the  sentence,  and  there  seemed 
a  sorrowful  voice  in  his  heart,  saying,  "  Inasmuch 
as  ye  did  it  nnto  them,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 
"What  had  he  done  to  them?  He  had  condemned 
them  unheard  ;  he  had  criticised  them  in  ignorance  ; 
he  had  not  in  any  case  rendered  them  their  just  dues 
of  honor  and  sympathy,  and  if  Christ's  words  meant 
anything  they  meant  at  least  that  he  had  denied  Him 
love  and  sympathy,  honor  and  justice. 


Ix  THE  BAZAK.  73 


CHAPTER  V. 

IX  THE  BAZAR. 

MRS.  CLINTON  decided  to  open  her  housekeeping 
as  quickly  as  possible.      Mrs.  Mackenzie's  cook, 
who  was  a  Christian,  had  promised  to  send  her  one  of 
his  friends,  who  was  likewise  a  good  cook  and  a  Chris 
tian.     Her  first  need  after  this  was  china  for  the  table. 

So  at  four  o'clock  the  shabby  little  carriage  and  the 
scraggy  little  pony  took  them  slowly  down  through 
the  English  and  Eurasian  quarter,  past  the  Eurasian 
and  native  quarter,  and  then  on  to  the  business  por 
tion  of  the  town,  where  they  entered  a  long,  long 
street,  lined  with  little  shops  on  either  side,  with  now 
and  then  a  temple  or  mosque,  beside  which  grew  the 
inevitable  and  sacred  pipal  tree.  Mrs.  Clinton  had 
said  as  they  started  out : 

"  Now  we  will  have  a  nice  cozy  talk  of  housekeep 
ing,  and  you  can  enlighten  me  on  many  points." 

But  in  a  moment  her  attention  was  distracted  by  a 
group  at  the  wayside  well. 

A  man  with  a  musical  instrument  somewhat  like  an 
elongated  banjo,  another  with  one  of  the  shape  and 
appearance  of  a  small,  dirty  beer-barrel,  and  still  an 
other  with  a  reed  pipe  were  sitting  under  a  tamarind 
tree  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  friends,  who  listened, 
entranced,  to  a  medley  of  wailing  sounds  that  Mrs. 
Clinton  thought  the  opposite  of  musical. 
6 


74  THK   BISHOP'^  COXVKUSIOX. 

"  The  tiling  in  tlie  Indian  people,"  said  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie,  "  that  delights  me  more  than  anything  else  is 
their  inconsequent  way.  They  do  not  stop  to  begin, 
as  we  of  an  older  civilization  do.  Xow,  these  men 
are  as  happy,  dropping  down  by  the  roadside  and 
calling  the  first  musicians  that  happen  to  be  passing, 
as  the  European  who  builds  an  opera  house  or  concert 
hall,  hires  his  singers  months  ahead,  prints  pro 
grams  and  tickets,  and  then  demands  an  elaborately 
dressed  audience.  Then  here,  see  these  t\vo  men. 
One  wishes  for  a  barber.  lie  goes  along  on  his  jour 
ney  until  he  meets  one,  and  they  sit  down  under  the 
tree,  perfectly  oblivious  to  all  passers-by,  and  the  bar 
ber  does  his  work  thoroughly,  even  to  cutting  finger 
and  toe  nails  and  shaving  the  head,  if  his  customer  is 
in  mourning." 

"They  are  political  economists  of  the  first  rank,  I 
should  say.  No  force  or  time  is  lost,"  answered  Mrs. 
Clinton. 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Now  here  is  another  instance  :  that 
man  nearly  naked,  passing  along  wirh  a  wet  strip  of 
cloth  held  over  his  head,  flying  behind  him,  is 
going  home  from  his  work.  lie  has  just  stopped  a 
few  minutes  by  the  well,  washed  his  outer  garment, 
which  is  usually  wrapped  around  him  like  a  shawl,  and 
lie  easily  holds  it  in  the  wind  as  he  goes  singing  on 
his  way.  When  it  is  dry  he  will  again  wrap  it 
about  him,  and  little  or  no  time  will  have  been  lost." 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed. 

O 

"I  like  saving  time  quite  as  well  as  anyone,  but  I  do 
not  think  I  would  like  their  way  of  doing  it  for  myself." 

"  That  is  because  we  are  so  artificial.  Now,  he  did 
all  that  as  easily  and  naturally  as  a  bird  dips  himself  in 


IX    THK    T>AZAR.  75 

the  river  and  flashes  his  feathers  in  the  sunlight  as  he 
goes  singing  up  into  the  sky.  It  is  perfectly  fasci 
nating  to  me.  Iain  never  tired  of  seeing  how  many 
beginnings  and  endings  they  cut  off  from  life.  They 
are  not  the  products  of  an  effete  civilization,  as  we  are. 
Here  is  another  example :  see  that  man  under  the 
banyan  tree,  with  toys  and  some  pieces  of  print  and 
a  few  boxes  of  thread  spread  out  on  old  strips  of 
cloth  on  the  ground  above  him.  lie  needs  no  elabo 
rately  planned  shop,  no  plate-glass  windows,  no  car 
pets,  no  electric  light,  and  no  chamber  of  commerce  to 
interfere.  He  has  got  hold  of  ten  rupees,  honestly  or 
otherwise,  and  in  one  day  has  set  up  his  shop,  from 
the  proceeds  of  which  he  will  give  an  offering  to 
Lachmi.  the  goddess  of  plenty,  if  at  the  end  of  the 
year  he  makes  as  much  as  we  spend  in  a  week,  even 
when  we  are  economical." 

"  It  is  wonderful,  but  forgive  me,  the  most  won 
derful  part  of  it  all  is  that  it  seems  so  dirty." 

Mrs.  Mackenzie  laughed. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  I  too  thought  of  that,  but 
I  have  learned  that  they  are  the  cleanest  people  in  the 
world.  In  judging  of  the  cleanliness  of  any  nation 
you  must  consider,  not  the  rich,  but  the  poorest  and 
lowest  classes,  and  I  know  of  no  other  poor  people  who 
bathe  every  day.  The  Mohammedans,  too,  invariably 
wash  before  eating,  and  even  the  lowest  cooly 
cleans  his  teeth  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  But 
here  is  our  shop,"  as  they  stopped  before  a  stall  where 
was  heaped  up  coarse  china  of  various  kinds.  As 
Mrs.  Mackenzie  alighted,  she  said,  "  We  might  almost 
call  this  missionary  china,  for  most  missionaries  have 
it,  though  not  from  choice,  I  can  assure  you." 


76  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

The  whole  street  on  both  sides,  Mrs.  Clinton  saw 
while  waiting,  was  a  succession  of  stalls,  their  fronts 
opening  directly  on  the  street,  with  one  door  from 
the  back  leading  to  the  family  rooms,  but  no  doors 
or  windows  at  the  sides. 

In  the  one  next  to  the  china  shop  cotton  goods  of 
all  shades  and  colors  were  stacked  up  around  the  three 
sides  of  the  stall,  all  mixed  together  without  regard 
to  dazzling  the  eye,  or  perhaps  with  that  very  object. 
Next  to  this  was  the  garah  wala  shop,  with  its  tiers 
of  fresh-baked  terra  cotta  waterpots,  of  all  sizes,  their 
lovely  oval  shapes  as  well  as  their  rich  color  attracting 
the  attention.  The  little  space  in  the  shop  that  was 
not  filled  with  these  aesthetic  water  jars,  dear  at  three 
cents  apiece,  was  festooned  with  stems  of  hookahs, 
wound  in  bright  rainbow  colors,  varied  by  lines  of 
hookah  stands  of  a  coarse  sort  of  majolica,  of  brass 
and  of  silver. 

Beyond  this  was  a  man  sitting  on  the  floor  of  his 
shop  making  jaunty  little  caps  of  thin  embroidered 
muslin.  They  looked  about  big  enough  for  an  Eng 
lish  baby,  but  they  were  on  the  heads  of  most  of  the 
men  that  were  passing. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  was  a  shop  that 
quickly  caught  and  held  Mrs.  Clinton's  color-loving 
eyes.  There  were  dark  low  tables,  on  which  were 
shallow  baskets  heaped  up  with  scarlet,  gold,  crim 
son,  and  purple  powders,  and  bronze,  green,  and  orange 
resins,  the  pale  straw  of  the  baskets  bringing  out 
these  masses  of  color  from  the  deep  purple  shadows 
in  the  back  of  the  shops,  where  the  shopkeeper,  as 
though  to  help  in  the  harmony,  sat  clothed  in  dull 
light  brown  from  head  to  foot,  his  hookah  of  burnished 


IN  THE  BAZAR.  77 

brass  being  the  only  thing  near  him  that  caught  the 
light.  Farther  down  was  a  shop  with  the  same  straw- 
colored  baskets,  only  larger  and  filled  and  heaped  up 
with  salmon-colored  dal,  all  shades  of  olive  and  olive- 
green  in  bajra  and  millet,  the  polished  black  seeds  of 
the  koda  by  the  dull  gold  of  the  wheat,  and  in  the 
center,  lounging  on  a  rug  on  the  floor,  the  handsome, 
graceful-limbed,  olive-faced  young  bunnia,  or  store 
keeper,  dressed  in  terra  cotta  color  with  a  gold-em 
broidered  turban,  pulling  at  his  silver  hookah.  The 
bunnia  was  a  dude,  and  that  is  a  thing  not  expected 
of  a  bunnia,  but  a  bicycle  leaning  against  the  steps 
explained  that  he  was  of  modern  India,  probably  had 
his  master  of  arts  degree,  and  knew  that  his  gods 
Ram,  Siva,  and  Vishnu  did  not  reside  on  the  tops  of 
the  snowy  peaks  of  the  Himalayas. 

"What,"  asked  Mrs.  Clinton  of  herself,  "is  not 
possible  to  a  people  whose  very  shopkeepers  do  them 
selves  and  their  shops  up  in  such  harmony  of  color? 
Probably,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  he  has  also  chosen 
his  occupation  from  its  aesthetic  fitness  to  himself." 

Had  she  been  longer  in  India  she  would  have  known 
that  to  have  been  impossible,  for  his  occupation  was 
chosen  for  him  by  his  ancestors  hundreds  of  years  be 
fore  his  birth.  There  was  to  her  an  inexhaustible  in 
terest  in  all  these  shops,  but  the  street  was  filling  so 
fast  with  people  that  they  shut  out  the  view.  She 
.saw  the  shadows  deepening  and  felt  the  chill  of  the 
night  that  was  coming  on,  and  just  as  she  began  to  wish 
Mrs.  Mackenzie  would  hurry  up  the  man  and  conclude 
her  bargain  the  latter  came  out  of  the  shop,  saying: 

"  Shopping  is  the  most  tiresome  thing  I  have  to 
do,  I  think.  It  is  simply  impossible  to  do  it  quickly, 


78  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION*. 

even  though  they  know  just  what  I  will  pay.  Now 
we  will  go  down  by  the  river." 

But  they  had  to  pass  slowly  through  the  crowded 
streets  that  were  kaleidoscopic  in  their  moving  color. 
Most  of  the  people  were  foot  passengers,  but  now  and 
then  there  was  apalkigari,  through  the  closed  blinds 
of  which  one  caught  a  glimpse  of  color  and  the  flash 
of  the  dark  eyes  of  some  begum  out  for  an  airing ; 
now  and  then  a  dhooly  with  a  richly  dressed  native 
gentleman  inside  stretched  on  his  back,  the  monoto 
nous  song  of  the  coolies  carrying  it  uniting  with  the 
cries  of  the  sweet  venders  and  shrieks  of  the  palki 
gari  drivers.  The  pony  shied  viciously  at  an  elephant 
who  came  slowly  trundling  along,  carrying  half  a  dozen 
soldiers,  but  passed  a  string  of  camels  unnoticed,  and 
soon  took  them  out  of  it  all  where  the  air  was  fresh 
enough  to  allow  them  to  breathe  freely  again. 

The  sky  in  the  west  was  a  clear  pale  lemon,  deep 
ened  into  orange  at  the  horizon,  against  which  the 
clock  tower  and  the  old  imambaras  and  mosques  lifted 
themselves  in  dull  purple  excepting  the  domes,  cor 
ners,  and  golden  balls  which  still  caught  a  strong  light 
from  the  warm  sky,  though  the  sunset  call  to  prayers 
had  long  since  died  away.  Over  the  intervening 
space  the  blue  smoke  was  beginning  to  arise  from  the 
evening  fires,  and  the  river — the  sacred  river  Gumti, 
which  flows  into  the  more  sacred  river  Ganges — re 
flected  every  tree  and  bungalow  on  its  shores  and 
every  boat  on  its  surface  with  mirror-like  exactness. 
It  was  difficult  to  tell  which  was  the  most  beautiful, 
the  landscape  above  or  below  the  water.  Even  the 
old  Chatter  Munzil,  surmounted  by  its  golden  umbrel 
la,  peeped  ovt  below  the  surface,  and  the  red  brick 


Ix  THE  BAZAR.  TO 

bridge,  with  the  evening  lamps  lighted,  already 
gleamed  sharply  out  just  where  one  expected  brown 
shadows  in  the  water. 

"  The  Chatter  Miiusil,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  after 
a  little  silence  in  which  they  had  enjoyed  the  scene, 
"  was  the  zenana  palace  where  the  old  King  of  Onde 
kept  the  most  favored  of  his  thousand  wives,  but  it  is 
now  used  as  a  club  for  both  civil  and  military  people. 
There  is  a  fine  library  in  it  to  which  I  am  always 
longing  to  subscribe." 

"  Is  it  so  very  expensive  ? " 

"  Not  at  all,  though  what  I  would  pay  for  that 
would  defray  the  cost  of  a  girl's  day  school ;  but  not 
withstanding  this  I  am  sometimes  tempted  to  do  it, 
for  I  do  not  believe  it  quite  right  to  neglect  my  mind 
even  to  improve  the  mind  of  others,  only  I  have  not 
time  for  it.  Could  I  have  the  health  I  had  in  America 
I  might  find  time  for  reading,  but  I  am  obliged  to  use 
all  the  strength  I  have  to  keep  up  my  mission  work, 
and  trust  to  some  future  day-  to  improve  my  mind." 

"  I  think,  if  you  do  not  mind  my  saying  it.  I  would 
give  up  a  servant  or  two  and  use  what  they  are  paid 
for  the  subscription,  and  then  take  time;  for  if  you 
are  like  me  you  will  soon  have  no  mind  to  improve, 
living  as  you  do,  so  cut  off  from  the  world." 

Mrs.  Mackenzie,  ignoring  the  hint  as  to  servants, 
said  : 

"I  fancy  you  arc  not  very  different  from  the  rest 
of  humanity  in  regard  to  your  mind.  We  never 
mean  to  allow  our  minds  to  shrink  and  fall  away,  but 
there  is  such  a  rush  and  demand  for  every  bit  there  is 
in  us  of  body  and  mind  that  no  strength  is  left  for 
acquiring  anything  new." 


80  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"That  is  the  very  reason  why  yon  need  to  be  add 
ing  ;  the  exhaustion  is  so  perpetual  you  cannot  surely 
do  as  good  work  after  several  years  of  this  process, 
nor  can  your  judgment  be  so  good;  and  altogether 
you  cannot  be  of  so  much  use  to  the  mission." 

"True,"  was  the  answer,  given  a  little  sadly;  "I 
have  myself  often  gone  over  this  same  ground,  espe 
cially  when  I  have  noticed  some  marked  case  of 
stunted  growth  or  checked  development  in  people 
who  gave  great  promise ;  and  to  me  it  is  the  greatest 
sacrifice  I  make — that  is,  to  resign  myself  to  being  an 
inferior  person  when  there  might  be  a  possibility  of 
being  the  opposite." 

"  But  why  not  give  up  a  servant  or  two  and  have 
the  subscription  to  the  library  ?  I  shall  do  it  if  I  can." 

"  That  last  clause  is  well  put — if  you  can.  I  did 
not  want  to  begin  the  servant  question,  for  I  should 
fail  to  make  myself  understood.  It  is  the  one  thing 
that  people  cannot  forgive  us.  Whether  or  not  they 
think  we  can  be  teaching  one  school  and  superintend 
ing  half  a  dozen  others,  or  visiting  a  hundred  zenanas 
a  week,  and  at  the  same  time  cooking  a  dinner,  is  more 
than  my  feeble  mind  can  divine.  However,  as  you 
are  come  to  be  a  missionary  I  will  ask  you  at  the  end 
of  three  months  to  give  up  one  or  two  or  three  or 
four,  and  see  what  you  will  say." 

"  But  tell  me  this  at  least.  Is  it  not  a  great  care  to 
keep  so  many  up  to  their  work  ? " 

"  Care  ?  Look  at  my  hair  and  see  how  gray  it  is. 
I  believe  every  man  about  the  house  brings  me  an 
added  gray  hair  every  day  of  my  life." 

"  Then  why  do  you  have  so  many,  for  it  certainly 
seems  to  me  that  you  have  altogether  too  many.  Of 


IN  THE  BAZAR.  81 

course  I  know  in  a  general  way  their  caste  prevents 
their  doing  various  kinds  of  work ;  but  as  you  have 
part  Christian  servants  I  suppose  you  find  them  will 
ing  to  do  anything." 

"  There  is  some  difference,  but  custom  is  strong,  and 
cannot  be  changed  in  a  day." 

"  Xow.  your  cook,  for  instance  ;  lie  is  a  strong  man 
and  is  a  faithful  Christian,  you  tell  me.  He  should 
do  all  your  work,  and  I  should  insist  on  his  doing  it." 

"  Try  it,  try  it,  and  then  we  will  compare  experi 
ences,  and  I  assure  you  beforehand  of  my  utmost 
sympathy." 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  becoming  annoyed  at  the  evasive 
answers  to  her  questions.  She  could  not  see  why 
they  should  not  be  answered,  and  her  annoyance  made 
her  lose  her  caution. 

"I  will  most  certainly  try  it,  for  that  is  just  what  I 
am  here  for,"  with  a  little  touch  of  anger  in  her  voice. 

There  was  a  dead  silence ;  then,  in  a  voice  strained 
to  appear  indifferent,  Mrs.  Mackenzie  said  : 

"You  mean  that  you,  knowing  nothing  of  the  coun 
try  and  the  language  and  customs  of  the  people,  ex 
pect  to  be  able  to  teach  us  who  have  been  here  for 
years  how  to  live  economically?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  choose  to  put  it  that  way." 

"And  that  you  came  as  a  spy,  if  I  choose  to  put  it 
so?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  short  answer.  She  made  this  short 
answer  because  in  a  way  it  was  the  truth,  and  she 
felt  too  irritated  to  explain  that  it  was  not  the  whole 
truth — that  she  had  come  as  a  sympathetic  spy,  anxious 
to  prove  that  the  missionaries  were  right.  She  felt 
that  Mrs.  Mackenzie  should  know  that  without  ex- 


82  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

planation,  while  Mrs.  Mackenzie  felt  that  her  guest 
was  conceited  and  mistaken  and  unkind  to  a  degree 
that  she  could  not  express,  though  there  were  some 
things  in  her  mind  that  she  could  hardly  keep  from 
saying ;  but  having  plenty  of  self-control  she  sat  silent 
until  they  were  back  home  and  met  by  their  husbands 
and  a  Mr.  Kokewood,  who  were  all  more  than  ready 
for  their  dinner. 

While  these  two  good  women  had  been  manufactur 
ing  trouble  for  themselves  out  of  nothing,  the  Bishop, 
having  finished  his  visit  to  the  publishing  house,  went 
on  an  exploring  tour  about  the  city,  dropping  in  at 
several  mission  houses  for  a  few  minutes  and  then 
wandering  on  through  the  bazar. 

He  loitered  longest  in  the  manufacturing  streets, 
where  in  all  the  little  open  stalls  sat  men  with  rude 
tools  fashioning  things  for  the  use  of  the  world. 
There  was  a  fascination  to  him  in  seeing  the  interior 
working  of  the  city  exposed  in  this  manner.  It  was 
like  having  the  heart  and  lungs  of  a  live  man  under 
glass,  where  the  public  could  see  every  inhalation, 
every  throb  of  vein  and  artery.  The  publicity  of 
everything — the  finding  all  stores,  tailor  shops,  banks, 
restaurants,  manufactories  of  gold  and  silver,  in  fact, 
everything  that  had  to  be  made  and  bought  and  sold, 
within  half  a  foot  of  the  garis  and  foot  passengers — 
was  a  genuine  surprise;  for,  having  had  the  privacy 
of  family  life  in  India  so  firmly  fixed  in  his  mind,  he 
had  ascribed  to  these  people  great  delicacy  of  senti 
ment  and  feeling,  which  sentiment  vanished  forever 
when  he  saw  children  eight,  nine,  and  even  ten  years 
old,  quite,  and  grown  men  half  naked ;  and  as  he 
went  about  poking  his  cane  into  idol  manufactories, 


IN  THE  BAZAR.  83 

into  seeds  and  grains,  into  stonecutters'  shops,  lie  re 
volved  in  his  mind  a  grand  governmental  scheme  for 
clothing  the  people. 

He  lingered  longest  over  the  potter  who,  as  he 
turned  his  wheel  evolving  an  etruscan-shaped  water 
jar,  also  evolved  a  whole  sermon  out  of  the  Bishop's 
mind  ;  and  the  two  women  in  blue  and  red  drapery 
turning  the  heavy  millstone  gave  him  another  sermon, 
or  rather  vivified  an  old  one,  on  two  women  grinding 
at  a  mill — "one  shall  be  taken  and  the  other  left." 
Leaving  these  at  last,  he  found  himself  away  from 
the  bazar,  and  in  trying  to  return  to  it  he  got  into  a 
park  which  formed  the  inner  court  of  an  old  palace. 
He  sauntered  through  this,  listening  now  and  then  to 
the  talk  of  voung  native  men  in  a  semi-native  dress 

«/  o 

consisting  of  a  round  smoking-cap,  tight-fitting  long 
coat,  and  patent-leather  shoes,  who  were  constantly 
passing.  He  was  surprised  to  find  so  many  of  them 
talking  in  English,  and  good  English,  though  gener 
ally  with  a  very  strong  Hindoostanee  accent. 

A  number  seeing  that  he  was  idling  about  said 
"  Good  even"  with  hand  lifted  to  the  forehead.  This 
gesture,  called  "  salaaming,"  was  extremely  pleasant 
to  the  Bishop ;  it  was  at  once  so  graceful,  so  respect 
ful,  and  also  so  self-respectful,  for  only  a  native  gen 
tleman  who  thoroughly  respects  himself  can  give  a 
perfect  salaam. 

He  finally  joined  a  group  and  asked  them  about 
the  park  and  the  old  palace. 

One  after  another  of  the  men  who  were  passing 
joined  them  to  find  out  of  what  so  big  and  fine  a 
looking  sahib  could  be  talking. 

Then  one  man  came  who  knew  of  him,  and  he  told 


84  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

the  others  in  Ilindoostanee  that  this  was  the  Lord  Sa 
hib  of  the  Christians  who  ruled  over  all  the  ordinary 
padris,  or  ministers.  This  led  them  to  questions, 
which  led  to  talk  on  religion,  and  almost  before  he 
knew  it  he 'was  speaking  to  a  good  audience,  and  con 
scious  of  a  thrill  of  joy  when  he  realized  that  he  was 
actually,  as  he  had  dreamed  of  doing,  standing  up  as 
a  missionary  preaching  to  heathen. 

These  men  were  gentle,  intelligent,  and  refined,  and, 
it  seemed  to  the  new  missionary,  exceedingly  simple 
and  susceptible,  but  he  had  no  means  by  which  to 
gauge  them. 

The  coming  man,  or  you  might  say,  the  "  Young 
America"  of  India,  is  in  a  transition  stage.  lie  lias 
left  off  the  old  ways,  but  has  not  arrived  at  a  settled 
stage  of  new  things.  He  is  fearful  that  he  may  go 
back  to  the  old  ignorant  worship  and  more  fearful  of 
going  forward  to  new  beliefs.  lie  sneers  at  the  igno 
rant  superstition  of  his  mother,  and  less  at  those  of  his 
wife,  because  she,  also  touched  by  the  spirit  of  prog 
ress,  has  fewer  at  which  he  can  sneer. 

He  feels  the  embryo  of  something  new,  of  some 
thing  better  in  himself,  but  he  has  not  learned  to 
handle  his  astonishing  superiority  and  the  astonishing 
amount  of  knowledge  he  has  acquired.  He  may  have 
risen  from  the  merchant  class  or  the  artisan  class,  or 
even  the  servant  class,  to  being  a  teacher  or  clerk,  or 
baboo,  as  they  are  called,  but  he  has  generally  risen 
too  far  or  not  far  enough.  He  aspires  to  English 
clothes,  to  swearing,  to  drinking  wine,  to  philosophy, 
but  more  than  all  these,  to  an  umbrella.  lie  is  clever, 
has  good  intentions,  but  he  lacks  ballast,  and  is  an 
anomaly,  as  all  things  in  a  transition  stage  must  be. 


IN  THE  BAZAR.  85 

He  will,  however,  develop,  and  his  grandchildren 
will  be  settled,  sensible  men,  good  citizens,  and  loyal 
to  the  government  which  he  himself  condemns  be 
cause  it  does  not  furnish  patent-leather  shoes  and  un 
limited  "pensins"  to  all  who  have  passed  their  B.  A. 
examinations. 

This  is  the  kind  of  material  on  which  the  Bishop 
began  his  missionary  work. 

After  telling  simply  the  old  story  of  the  sin  of  the 
world,  of  the  prophecy  of  the  coming  Power  that 
should  conquer  sin,  of  the  arrival  in  the  world  of  that 
Power,  and  of  the  expiation  of  the  sin  of  the  world 
on  the  cross,  he  said : 

"  Is  there  anything  in  this  message  that  the  Light  of 
the  World  brought  for  yo;i  ?  He  came  equally  for  all 
men,' for  you  and  for  me.  Remember  this,  he  came 
for  .you" — looking  into  one  beautiful  face  which  had 
not  been  turned  once  from  his  while  he  was  talking — 
"  and  will  you  not  accept  him  ? " 

The  earnest  face  was  a  little  confused,  and  the 
graceful  head  was  lowered  as  he  said  : 

"  I — I  not  spik  Englis — I  make  learn  from  you — 
I  not  see  other  sahibs  to  talk  karo." 

There  was  a  shadow  of  a  smile  on  some  of  the  faces, 
and  the  Bishop  said  : 

"I  do  not  quite  catch  your  meaning." 

Then  up  spoke  a  brave  baboo,  who  knew  English 
full  well  : 

"  He  says,  sir,  that  he  wants  to  learn  English,  and 
as  he  knows  no  sahibs  he  was  listening  to  learn  it  of 
you." 

The  Bishop's  heart  fell.  And  so  this  was  all  this 
man  and  also  the  others  wanted  ?  lie  had  thought 


86  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

his  words  were  sinking  in  good  soil,  and  he  had  only 
been  giving  the  man  a  lesson  in  English!  But 
another  said : 

"  Sir,  if  yon  will  allow  me,  I  will  ask  a  question." 

"Certainly,"  said  the  Bishop,  brightening. 

"Did  the  divine  Spirit  descend  upon  Christ  when 
he  was  baptized  by  John  the  Baptist?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop. 

"Then,  sir,  was  not  Jesus  divine  before  that,  or 
did  his  divinity  begin  with  his  baptism  by  an  ordi 
nary  human  ?  If  this  latter,  then  may  not  any  one  of 
us  become  divine  by  baptism  ? " 

The  Bishop  was  bewildered,  not  by  the  question  so 
much,  for  he  was  sound  on  theology,  but  by  its  com 
ing  from  such  an  unexpected  source.  He  gave  the 
answer  lamely  and  in  a  way  that  he  felt  carried  little 
meaning. 

Then  another  said  : 

"  If  I  may  be  allowed  I  will  also  one  question  ask. 
Judas  committed  a  foreseen  act.  Should  he  have 
been  punished  for  a  foreseen  act  that  was  to  make  and 
bring  to  pass  all  the  good  of  which  you  have  told 
us?" 

Ah,  this  answer  would  require  time,  and  before  he 
could  frame  an  answer  which  would  reach  their  hearts 
as  well  as  their  heads  another  gentle-faced  man  stepped 
forward  and  said  : 

"There  was  a  law  by  which  prophets  were  judged. 
Jesus,  a  Jew,  was  tried  by  a  Jewish  Sanhedrin  and 
found  guilty  of  blasphemy  according  to  the  Jewish 
law,  and  where  was  the  wrong  in  his  being  punished  ?" 

These  were  not  new  points,  but  coming  from  these 
gentle-eyed  young  men,  asked  in  the  most  polite  and 


Ix  THE  BAZAR.  87 

deprecating  manner,  they  were  confusing  in  the  ex 
treme,  beyond  even  his  own  comprehension,  and  the 
consciousness  of  answering  them  without  force  an 
noyed  him  and  made  his  words  still  less  satisfactory 
to  himself.  But  as  it  was  growing  dark  he  knew  he 
must  leave  them,  and  he  shook  hands  warmly  with 
each  one,  the  number  having  dwindled,  and  invited 
them  most  cordially  to  visit  him  in  his  house,  when 
lie  should  be  settled,  and  discuss  these  points  at 
length,  as  they  wrere  not  questions  to  be  disposed  of 
lightly. 

His  manner  was  kind,  and  as  a  handshake  from  a 
man  in  high  position  is  ever  irresistible,  so  his  heart 
did  what  his  head  could  not,  and  won  them  to  a  willing 
ness  to  believe  what  he  said,  though  no  doubt  some 
of  them  could  have  answered  their  own  questions 
better  than  he  did. 

As  he  went  on  in  the  direction  of  Mackenzie's 
bungalow  he  saw  on  a  street  that  led  into  the  one  on 
which  he  was  a  man  carrying  a  heavy  valise,  and 
walking  as  though  tired,  while  two  coolies  were  fol 
lowing  along  by  him,  evidently  begging  for  the  priv 
ilege  of  carrying  the  bag.  As  the  roads  converged  the 
man  stopped  and,  putting  out  his  hand,  said : 

"  How  do  you  do,  Bishop  Clinton  ?  My  name  is 
Hokewood,  and  I  am  a  missionary." 

"I  am  glad  you  know  me,  for  I  was  wishing  I 
knew  you." 

""Why?"  asked  Rokewood,  smiling;  "but  I  need 
not  ask.  It  was  because  I  am  the  first  white  man  you 
have  seen  carrying  anything  larger  than  an  eyeglass 
since  you  came  to  India." 

''  You  have  guessed  very  near  it,"  responded  the 
7 


S3  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

Bishop,  laughing  a  little.  "  I  should  really  like  t-> 
know  why  a  man  should  carry  a  heavy  bag  like  that, 
when  it  would  be  a  favor  to  these  poor  fellows  to  let 
them  carry  it  for  two  cents.  I  see  no  reason  for  your 
doing  it,  for  this  air,  though  cool,  takes  all  the  power 
out  of  one  for  walking,  to  say  nothing  of  carrying  a 
heavy  weight." 

"  Well,  now,  Bishop,  yen  have  struck  a  vital  point 
with  me  at  the  beginning.  I  simply  want  to  show 
these  clerks  and  shopkeepers  and  all  others  the  dignity 
of  labor.  They  would  not  be  seen  doing  it,  but  I  let 
them  see  that  a  sahib  is  not  ashamed  to  do  it,  and  then, 
besides,  I  want  to  make  myself  one  with  these  poor 
fellows,  to  show  them  that  to  save  them  I  will  come 
down  to  them." 

"  Ah,  that  is  the  right  spirit ;  that  is  the  spirit  that 
will  conquer  India,"  said  his  hearer.  "  I  had  been 
hoping  to  see  more  of  the  same  in  the  mission  than  I 
have  seen." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  I  heard  you  had  come 
to  be  a  missionary  for  a  year,  and  if  you  begin  on 
those  lines  we  can  work  together.  I  must  sav  I  do 

CJ  *i 

not  find  much  sympathy  from  the  missionaries,  but  I 
mean  to  carry  out  my  plan,  though.  IsVsv,  any  other 
man  would  have  hired  a  gari  to  come  from  the  station. 
It  is  a  good  three  miles'  walk,  and  it  takes  time,  but 
I  could  not  pay  for  one,  as  I  am  trying  to  live  on  the 
same  amount  as  a  native  clerk  would  ;  so  I  must  do  as 
he  would  do,  though  of  course  he  would  not  have 
carried  his  bag." 

"But  what  about  the  cooly?  Even  though  you  do 
show  him  you  are  not  above  doing  the  same  work  he 
does,  will  he  be  impressed  if  he  has  to  go  hungry  to 


IN  THE  BAZAR.  89 

bed  to-night  because  of  the  lack  of  the  two  cents  lie 

O 

might  have  earned  ?" 

O 

"  Yes."  was  the  answer,  "  there  is  that  side  of  the 
question,  and  it  often  puzzles  me,  but  I  would  rather 
give  him  the  two  cents  than  let  him  think  I  am  above 
carrying  a  valise." 

"But there,  again,  it  can  never  be  beneficial  to  give 
a  man  what  he  is  able  to  earn  ;  for  when  you  do  so 
you  make  a  pauper  of  him,  and  that  is  a  lasting  in 
jury." 

"  O,  yes  ;  that  is  what  the  other  missionaries  are  al 
ways  saying;  but  I  am  not  responsible  for  the  way 
they  take  it.  I  am  only  responsible  for  myself,  and 
for  carrying  out  my  own  convictions." 

"  That  is  poor  reasoning.  You  are  responsible  for 
their  'salvation,  and  yon  do  this  to  show  them  you 
have  sympathy  with  them;  then  yon  say  you  are  not 
responsible  for  their  being  hungry,  or  for  making 
them  paupers?  Now,  then,  as  to  hiring  a  gari.  After 
you  have  walked  three  miles  and  carried  this  valise 
you  will  be  unfit  for  more  work  this  evening." 

lie  hoped  he  would  be  contradicted,  but  Rokewood 
assented. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  do  not  believe  in  mission 
aries  riding  when  they  can  walk,  or  hiring  work  done 
when  they  can  do  it  themselves." 

"  Not  even  if  the  mission  gains  in  the  end  tenfold 
by  their  driving  or  by  their  hiring  work  done? "  asked 
the  Bishop,  ironically.  He  liked  people  to  be  reason 
able. 

"  But  it's  the  example  I  am  insisting  on,"  answered 
Rokewood,  doggedly. 

They  were  at  Mackenzie's  bungalow,  and  Macken- 


00  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

zie  himself,  coming  across  from  the  back  road,  joined 
them  at  the  steps,  hearing  the  last  remark. 

"  What  example  ?  though  I  need  not  ask.  Eoke- 
wood  is  giving  you  his  theories.  lie  thinks  it  worth 
while  for  the  mission  to  go  to  the  expense  of  sending 
a  man  out  here  and  of  keeping  him  here  to  do  coolies' 
work,  which  he  cannot  do  as  well  as  the  cooly  him 
self,  and  for  the  sake  of  doing  it  he  will  leave  undone 
work  which  no  one  else  can  do,  and  which,  worse  still, 
if  he  does  not  do  it,  will  be  forever  undone,"  said  Mac 
kenzie,  gravely.  "  There  are  more  coolies  here  than 
there  is  work  already,  and  I  do  not  see  the  need  of 
adding  myself  to  the  number,  even  though  Roke- 
wood  is  anxious  to  place  himself  with  them.  For  it 
amounts  to  that.  It  is  work  that  Indians  cannot  do 
which  will  lift  India  up,  and  we  have  no  right  to 
waste  precious  strength  which  is  necessary  to  the  ac 
complishment  of  mental  and  spiritual  work." 

Mrs.  Mackenzie  and  Mrs.  Clinton  came  in  just 
then,  and  during  dinner  the  conversation  was  on  these 
same  lines,  the  Bishop  siding  with  Rokewood,  on 
general  principles,  but  disagreeing  in  some  particular 
instances ;  but  neither  of  the  ladies  took  any  part  in 
it,  and  that  night  Mrs.  Clinton  said  to  herself: 

"  This  is  the  evening  and  the  morning  of  the  first 
day,  and  if  I  did  not  know  to  the  contrary  I  would 
say  it  was  the  evening  and  the  morning  of  the  first 
month,  I  have  seen  and  learned  so  much,  and  to-rnor- 
row  I  will  begin  to  be  a  missionary  and  see  for  myself 
what  can  be  done." 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  91 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OPENING    HOUSEKEEPING. 

THE  morning  of  the  second  day  Mrs.  Clinton 
announced  that  they  would  have  breakfast  under 
their  own  vine  and  fig-tree.  The  Bishop  looked 
dubious,  and  the  face  of  Mr.  Miller,  who  had  come 
to  take  him  to  see  the  boys'  schools  in  the  city,  ex 
pressed  astonishment  enough  to  warrant  the  use  of 
the  term  thunderstruck,  but,  as  men  do,  he  waited-till 
he  got  the  Bishop  alone  to  make  inquiries. 

Mr.  Mackenzie  remonstrated  with  Mrs.  Clinton, 
begging  her  to  stay  with  them  and  go  back  and  forth 
between  the  two  houses  until  she  had  settled  her  own 
and  was  sure  the  machinery  would  be  in  good  work 
ing  order;  but  Mrs.  Mackenzie  said  nothing.  She 
was  deeply  hurt,  and  a  little  indignant  withal.  She 
said  to  herself,  though  she  would  have  liked  to  say  it 
to  her  guest : 

"They  may  take  their  own  way.  They  have  come, 
with  insufferable  conceit,  thinking  that  they,  with 
no  experience  of  the  country,  can  manage  better 
than  all  the  hundreds  of  men  and  women  who  have 
come  and  gone  in  the  mission.  Do  they  not  sup 
pose  there  might  be  a  few  clever  women  and  good 
managers  in  all  the  number  that  are  still  in  the 
field  ?  Even  among  the  New  England  women,  so 
famous  for  economy  and  thrift,  do  they  not  think 


92  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

one  might  have  been  found  to  simplify  household 
matters,  if  they  could  be  simplified  ?  Yet  the  mis 
sionaries'  wives  are  all  alike,  groaning  under  the 
bondage  of  caste  and  the  exigencies  of  the  country 
that  force  them  to  have  their  household  work  distrib 
uted  among  so  many."  So  much  for  that  side  of  the 
question.  But  the  hurt  was  deeper  than  the  resent 
ment.  They,  coming  in  this  way,  represented  the  sen 
timent  of  the  dear  people  in  the  dear  home  land. 

In  all  the  weariness  of  the  hct  weather  and  of 
dangerous  disease  and  separation  from  home  and 
friends  and  country  the  thought  of  the  many  who 
had  followed  them  with  sympathy  in  their  work  had 
again  and  again  cheered  their  hearts  when  almost 
ready  to  sink ;  and  though  not  given  to  posing  as  a 
heroine,  the  thought  of  being  known  as  one  leading 
an  heroic  life,  and  honored  for  it,  had  been  a  stimulus 
to  her,  just  as  the  soldier  at  the  outpost  is  upheld  by 
the  honor  of  having  the  most  hazardous  place  given 
him,  and  knows  if  he  falls  doing  a  dangerous  duty  all 
men  will  feel  a  thrill  of  sympathy  which  they  would 
not  have  felt  had  he  died  in  the  ordinary  routine  of 
life.  This  sympathy  had  been  much  to  her,  and 
much  to  ail  the  missionaries,  even  from  those  who  loved 
all  the  good  things  of  life,  too  much  to  give  them  up 
themselves.  "While  the  missionaries  had  seen  the  un 
kind  and  absurd  things  said  of  them  (for  now  the 
regular  weekly  mail  rarely  came  without  bringing 
letters  or  papers  that  showed  more  or  less  distrust  of 
missions),  yet  they  had  never  given  these  criticisms 
serious  attention,  for  they  would  not  believe  they 
\vere  the  expression  of  the  Church.  Sometimes  they 
would  sav  thev  would  answer  such  and  such  remarks 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  93 

if  they  had  time,  and  now  and  then  they  would  laugh 
over  some  absurd  thing,  and  now  and  then  they 
would  be  indignant  at  some  misrepresentation,  but 
on  the  whole  they  had  not  been  sorry  for  the  criti 
cism,  because  they  said  it  might  waken  an  interest 
that  would  in  the  end  be  beneficial,  and  they  knew 
that  whatever  outside  people  might  say  they  had  the 
Church  with  them. 

"  Evidently  now,  this  comfort,"  said  Mrs.  Macken 
zie  to  herself,  "  must  also  be  given  up.  We  were 
mistaken  ;  the  Church  must  believe  these  things,  else 
why  should  a  bishop  and  his  wife  be  sent  to  investi 
gate?" 

It  was  this  that  made  her  sad  and  silent.  It  was 
as  though  the  Church  actually  distrusted  not  only  the 
methods  and  plans  of  campaign,  but  the  men  and 
women  she  had  ordained  and  sent  out.  If  so  it  was 
a  mistaken  policy,  for  when  did  ever  a  general  win 
a  great  victory  by  saying  to  his  soldiers  : 

"Though  I  have  given  you  the  work  requiring 
discretion  and  courageous  self-sacrifice,  and  have  com 
manded  you  to  be  ready  to  face  death  rather  than 
defeat,  I  neither  trust  to  the  former  nor  will  I  believe 
you  have  the  latter." 

So  the  old  feeling  of  glory  in  standing  in  the  front 
of  battle  must  be  given  up ;  but  the  work  itself  was 
worth  inexpressibly  more  than  glory,  and  needed  not 
to  be  gilded  by  any  false  light,  though  it  hurt — how 
it  hurt ! 

And  Mrs.  Clinton  was  not  happy,  as  she  said,  in 
deep  self-condemnation,  while  packing  her  trunk  : 

"  There  is  at  least  one  woman  who  would  never 
do  as  an  ambassador  or  a  diplomatist ; "  and  she  for- 


^4  TEE  BISHOP'S  COXVKKSION. 

ventlj  hoped  her  husband  would  not  chance  to  hear 
how  foolish  she  had  been.  Foolish,  because  all  mis 
sionaries  ultimately  know  what  one  missionary  knows, 
and  when  it  was  once  generally  known  that  they  had 
come  to  spy  and  correct  they  would  be  at  once  shut 
out  from  the  sympathy  of  the  mission,  and  this  would 
be  fatal  to  their  object.  AY  hen  she  thought  of  trying 
to  explain  she  knew  it  would  be  impossible,  for 
though  she  had  told  the  warped  truth,  the  untrue 
truth,  yet  it  was  the  truth,  nevertheless. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  as  her  guest 
was  taking  leave,  "  that  I  cannot  go  with  you  to 
help  you,  but  there  is  an  amount  of  proof  for  the  paper 
to  be  corrected  that  is  appalling,  besides  a  roll  proof  of 
the  annual  reports  of  the  woman's  work,  of  which  I 
am  editor,  and  I  have  not  finished  the  table  of  statis 
tics  for  the  same  ;  but  I  will  give  you  Katie  as  inter 
preter  and  general  expositor.  She  can  tell  you  every 
thing  about  the  house  and  the  servants,  and  can 
interpret  better  than  I  can." 

"  O,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  deprecatingly,  "  I  would 
not  think  of  taking  you  from  your  work.  I  must  do 
as  other  missionaries  do,  help  myself." 

"  There  is  one  thing,  however,  that  I  can  do,  and 
that  is  to  lend  you  anything  you  may  need  for  a  week 
or  so,  or  until  you  can  supply  yourself.  Just  send  me 
a  list  and  be  mild  and  moderate  in  your  demands,  for 
notwithstanding  the  luxury  in  which  we  are  supposed 
to  be  rolling  there  are  very  narrow  limitations  to  the 
stock  of  things  we  keep  on  hand." 

This  was  said  with  a  smile,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  re 
plied  with  a  smile  which  was  rather  forced,  for  she  had 
no  words,  and  then  she  drove  awav  with  her  trunks 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  95 

on  top  of  a  hired  wooden  carriage,  Lillian  and  Katie 
on  the  front  seat  chattering  volubly. 

There  are  several  kinds  of  houses  on  the  plains  of 
India,  but  those  used  by  Europeans  are  chiefly  of  two 
kinds,  kothi  and  bungalow.  The  former  is  built  of 
sun-dried  and  kiln-burnt  brick,  and  has  a  square-topped 
roof,  held  together  by  wooden  rafters,  etc.,  or  by  rail 
road  iron.  The  latter  has  a  sloping  roof,  tiled  or 
thatched  with  straw  or  grass,  and  is  much  cooler  than 
the  kothi,  but  not  so  clean  and  safe  from  leakage  ;  also 
it  is  not  so  free  from  snakes,  scorpions,  and  centipedes, 
which  have  an  abrupt  way  of  dropping  down  on  one 
that  is  neither  conducive  to  comfort,  to  peace  of  mind, 
nor  always  to  long  life. 

This  particular  mission  house,  wherein  a  year  of  ex- 
perhnental  life  was  to  be  spent,  was  a  bungalow  with 
tiled  roof,  and  furnished  with  the  absolutely  needful 
heavy  furniture — that  is,  tables  and  chairs  and  beds, 
two  or  three  cupboards,  a  bookcase,  a  desk,  and  a 
couch.  All  were  made  rather  roughly,  but  of  good 
\vood ;  and  the  beds  consisted  of  a  wooden  frame,  across 
which  was  stretched  coarse  hand-woven  tape. 

There  were  six  rooms  besides  verandas  and  bath 
rooms ;  the  rectangular  sitting  room,  back  of  that  the 
dining  room,  both  in  the  middle  of  the  house,  the 
former  opening  upon  the  front  veranda  and  the  latter 
on  the  back  veranda,  which  commanded  a  view  of 
the  cookhouse.  On  the  west  side  of  these  rooms 
were  two  of  the  same  size,  used  for  bedrooms  ;  on  the 
east  were  two  more,  one  used  as  study  and  office,  and 
the  other  as  a  bedroom.  This  was  the  extent  of  the 
house,  except  twro  small  rooms  and  bath  rooms.  The 
walls  were  roughly  whitewashed,  and  the  floors  were 


96  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

sun-dried  brick,  plastered  over  with  mud  and  lime. 
Windows  there  were  none,  but  the  upper  part  of  each 
door  was  of  glass  and  gave  light  enough  for  all  pur 
poses,  except  on  very  dark  and  cloudy  days. 

The  three  wandered  through  the  house,  the  elder 
of  them  wondering  how  the  great,  dreary,  desolate 
rooms  were  ever  to  be  made  habitable. 

A  woman,  on  entering  a  house  in  which  she  ex 
pects  to  live,  as  naturally  goes  straight  to  the  kitchen 
as  a  pointer  points  game.  But  here  Mrs.  Clinton's 
instinct  did  not  serve  her,  for  she  found  nothing  that 
even  in  a  remote  idea  corresponded  to  it. 

Calling  Katie,  she  asked  for  the  kitchen.  Katie 
looked  blank  and  finally  said,  falteringly,  that  she  did 
not  know  what  "  kitchen"  meant.  Lillian  was  amazed, 
and  Mrs.  Clinton  smiled. 

"  Where  is  the  stove  for  cooking  ?  " 

Katie  grew  positively  red  with  shame.  She  had 
been  born  in  India  and  had  never  heard  the  word  be 
fore. 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  see  you  do  not  know  what 
*  stove'  means  either;  but  can  you  tell  me  where  our 
breakfast  will  be  cooked  ? " 

Katie's  face  brightened  : 

"  Of  course  I  know  the  bawarchi  khana,"  she 
laughed  ;  "  I  like  going  there,  but  it  is  locked,  though 
the  cook  is  coining,"  she  added,  pointing  to  a  man  who 
was  hurrying  toward  the  cookhouse,  followed  by  a 
half-naked  cooly  with  a  large  shallow  basket  on  his 
head.  Another  like  him  with  another  large  flat  basket 
on  his  head  came  on  behind,  and  beyond  him  was  still 
another  straggling  across  the  compound.  The  coolies 
came  straight  to  the  veranda,  put  their  baskets  at 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  97 

Mrs.  Clinton's  feet,  salaamed,  and  said  something 
which  Katie  translated  as  asking  for  payment  for 
bringing  the  baskets. 

Airs.  Clinton  took  out  her  purse  and  asked  Katie 
how  much  she  hmst  pay  them.  They,  with  eyes  quick 
to  see  that  Mrs.  Clinton  was  new  to  their  country, 
asked  four  times. the  right  price.  Katie  laughed  and 
said  something  to  them  at  which  they  too  laughed. 
Then  catching  tip  her  hat  she  ran  to  the  cookhouse, 
asked  the  cook  the  right  price,  and  came  back  saying 
each  was  to  have  two  annas,  or  about  five  cents.  She 
helped  Mrs.  Clinton  count  it  out  and  gave  it  to  the 
men,  telling  them  next  time  they  came  to  be  careful 
and  tell  no  lies.  They  grinned  with  admiration  at 
her  cleverness,  and  went  off  with  their  baskets  turned 
over  their  heads  like  bonnets. 

"Why  did  not  the  cook  bring  this  basket  ?  "  asked 
Mr*.  Clinton  of  Katie,  pointing  to  one  filled  with 
vegetables  and  meat,  evidently  the  purchases  of  the 
cook. 

Katie  looked  surprised,  and  said  : 

"  0,  it  is  only  the  coolies  who  bring  things  on 
their  heads.  Cooks  are  not  coolies,  and  they  do  not 
bring  things  on  their  heads." 

"  They  might  have  another  kind  of  basket  and  bring 
it  in  their  hands." 

"  Yes,"  said  Katie,  doubtfully,  "  if  it  vere  very 
small.  Sometimes  cooks  bring  things  tied  in  a  jharan 
in  their  hands,  but  never  on  their  heads." 

The  cook  laid  out  the  things  he  had  bought.  There 
was  a  thin,  scraggy-looking  quarter  of  mutton,  and  a 
piece  for  chops,  some  carrots,  pease,  cauliflower,  a  little 
rice,  a  little  pepper,  a  little  salt  in  big  lumps,  a  little 


98  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

cinnamon,  a  few  cloves,  some  fresli  ginger  root,  all 
tied  up  in  bits  of  dirty  rags;  a  paper  bag  of  sugar,  be 
sides  a  little  flour,  and  a  little  something  that  looked 
like  lard,  but  which  Katie  said  was  "  ghi,"  or  melted 
butter,  and  a  few  small  potatoes.  After  looking  them 
over  Mrs.  Clinton  concluded  she  did  not  want  any 
breakfast,  but  told  Katie  to  tell  him  to  prepare  what 
he  could,  and  as  quickly  -as  possible. 

They  all  followed  him  out  to  the  cookhouse,  to  his 
evident  consternation.  When  Mrs.  Clinton  saw  the 
mnd  range  built  up  at  one  side  of  the  mud  hut,  saw 
the  round,  strange-looking  cooking-pots,  saw  the  ab 
sence  of  a  chimney  for  the  smoke  to  escape,  and  saw 
the  cook's  strange  process  of  building  a  fire,  she  at 
once  and  forever  abandoned  any  slight  idea  of  doing 
the  cooking  herself.  She  felt  rather  relieved  that 
one  point  was  settled — that  it  was  not  within  the  range 
of  possibilities  for  one  not  to  the  manor  born  to 
do  cooking  in  India,  even  in  cold  weather.  She  could 
have  gone  as  easily  into  a  shop  and  made  American 
cooking  utensils  as  she  could  have  cooked  in  an  Indian 
cookhouse  on  an  Indian  fireplace.  Going  out  quickly, 
with  eyes  streaming  from  the  smoke,  she  surveyed  the 
compound.  In  a  distant  corner  under  a  clump  of 
bananas  was  the  well,  and  a  man  slowly  pulling  up  a 
leathern  skin  full  of  water. 

"  Here  at  least  is  one  chance  of  cutting  down  the 
list;  the  cook  shall  draw  the  water.  If  he  only  cooks 
for  three  people  he  will  have  time  enough,"  she  said. 

Just  then  Lillian  came  around  the  corner  of  the 
house  and  said  : 

"  There  is  a  lady  here  to  see  you,  and  Katie  says  it 
is  Miss  Whitlow."" 


OPKXIXG  HOUSEKEEPING.  99 

Miss  Whitlow's  name  had  long  been  a  familiar  one 
to  Mrs.  Clinton,  and  she  hurried  into  the  sitting  room, 
where  she  saw  a  tall,  strong  woman  with  a  broad  felt  hat 
on  her  head  and  a  look  of  pain  on  her  face,  who  said  : 

"  I  did  not  meet  yon  at  the  station  last  night,  as  I 
had  a  headache.  I  could  do  no  work  this  morning, 
so  I  thought  I  would  come  and  see  you." 

Mrs.  Clinton  smiled  at  her  candid  suggestion  that 
she  would  not  have  come  if  she  could  have  worked ; 
and  she  went  on  : 

"I  went  down  to  the  Mackenzies'  bungalow,  and 
you  can,  or  rather  you  cannot,  imagine  my  amazement 
at  finding  you  had  come  to  stay  and  to  be  mission 
aries,  and  were  already  in  your  own  house.  Perhaps 
you  do  not  know  that  if  you  do  things  so  suddenly  in 
India  you  will  make  our  heads  swim  and  give  your 
selves  sunstroke,  or  something  worse." 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed. 

"You  must  remember  that  we  are  Americans,  and 
accustomed  to  be  in  a  hurry/' 

"  Well,  be  gentle  in  your  movements,  in  mercy  to  us 
who  have  lived  many  years  in  a  land  where  the  motto 
is,  'Xever  do  to-day  what  yon  can  put  off  till  to 
morrow.'  But,  seriously,  I  am  alive  with  curiosity. 
Have  you  really  come  as  a  spy — not  to  spy  out  the 
nakedness  of  the  land,  but  the  opulence  and  the  ex 
travagance,  the  bad  management  and  idleness  of  the 
missionaries — and  to  be  a  sort  of  Moses  to  lead  us  into 
a  land  of  better  things  ?  " 

Mrs.  Clinton's  face  had  flushed,  and  she  looked 
thoroughly  annoyed  : 

•'Who  has  said  such  an  absurd  thing?  Did  Mrs. 
Mackenzie  ?  Surely  she  was  not  justified — 


100  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Mrs.  Mackenzie  said  nothing  of  yon  but  what  was 
kind  and  complimentary.  She  said  casually  that  yon 
were  going  to  try  to  live  just  as  economically  as  pos 
sible,  and  if  I  could  give  you  any  hints  as  to  the  best 
manner  of  so  doing  she  was  sure  yon  would  be  glad. 
But  as  I  know  a  bishop's  family  cannot  be  in  very 
straitened  circumstances  there  must  be  some  reason 
for  this  strange  resolution,  and  there  has  been  so  much 
criticism  on  us  at  home  for  daring  to  claim  the  right 
of  living  like  ordinary  mortals,  I  just  guessed  it.  I 
assure  you  we  will  all  give  you  our  hearty  sympathy. 
If  you  can  find  any  cheaper  or  more  comfortable  way 
of  living,  provided  your  plan  will  not  interfere  with 
our  work  or  our  health,  we  will  be  glad  indeed ;  for 
you  know  that  most  of  us  put  all  the  money  we  can 
save  into  schools  and  Bible  women,  and  it  will  sim 
ply  mean  more  schools  and  more  work;  and  let  me 
tell  yon,  there  is  absolutely  no  limit  to  our  work  ex 
cept  the  limits  made  by  the  lack  of  workers  and 
money  to  support  the  workers.  But  on  what  line 
are  you  going  to  begin  ?  " 

"The  first  thing  that  struck  me  was  the  number  of 
men  employed  to  do  the  housework.  Tell  me  ex 
actly  how  many  you  consider  necessary ; "  and  she 
took  out  her  pocket  notebook. 

"  First,  a  cook,  and  if  you  have  a  large  family  he 
will  insist  on  having  a  boy  to  wash  dishes." 

Mrs.  Clinton  wrote  "  Cook,"  and  said,  "  I  grant  the 
cook,  for  I  see  that  he  is  absolutely  indispensable,  but 
not  the  boy." 

"  No  ;  your  family  is  small,  and  though  he  will  ask 
for  one  it  is  not  necessary.  Xext,  a  'khidmatgar,'  or 
table  servant.  He  will  wait  at  the  table,  make  the 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  101 

tea  and  toast  in  the  morning,  which  all  have  to  have 
before  going  to  work,  and  help  the  cook  generally." 

"  Why  cannot  the  cook  make  the  tea  and  toast  and 
wait  on  the  table  and  '  help  the  cook  generally  ? ' ' 

"He  must  go  to  the  bazar  every  morning  early,  if 
you  want  to  get  good  meat  and  vegetables.  If  he 
waits  to  make  the  tea  and  toast  you  will  not  get  good 
food,  and  let  me  emphasize  one  thing :  it  is  not  safe 
in  India  to  eat  any  but  good  meat  and  the  best  of 
everything  else  you  can  get." 

"  Could  I  not  make  the  tea  and  toast  myself  ? " 

"Yes,  during  this  month  and  next,  perhaps,  if  you 
have  time  ;  after  that  you  must  have  something  as 
soon  as  you  are  dressed,  to  keep  your  strength  up 
during  the  day.  Indeed,  very  many  hard-working 
people  take  their  tea  before  they  rise,  which  to  us,  of 
course,  seems  a  very  indolent  habit.  Next  on  the 
list  is  a '  bearer,'  who  dusts  the  house  twice  a  day,  which 
is  no  small  job,  and  he  looks  after  the  other  servants. 
A  really  good  and  trusty  man  will  save  you  an  im 
mense  amount  of  care  and  anxiety,  but  many  people 
who  have  small  families  combine  bearer  and  khid- 
matgar.  Mrs.  Mackenzie  has  kept  but  one  man 
for  both  kinds  of  work,  but  it  insures  a  good  deal  of 
trouble,  for  it  is  impossible  or  next  to  impossible  to 
have  the  work  done  well  and  the  house  kept  clean 
with  only  one,  and  then  the  bearer  will  see  that  the 
others  do  not  steal  too  much  from  you." 

"Steal!"  exclaimed  Lillian,  with  wide-open  eyes 
full  of  fear.  "  Are  they  all  thieves  ?  " 

"  !Xo,  my  dear,  no ;  there  is  really  only  one  profes 
sional  thief  in  each  house." 

Mrs.  Clinton's  eyes  now  matched  Lillian's.     Vague 


102  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

thoughts  of  the  horrors  of  the  mutiny  were  passing 
through  her  mind,  for  the  word  thief  seems  always 
to  have  other  crimes  grouped  around  it  in  people's 
minds. 

Miss  Whitlow  laughed. 

';  Your  night-watchman,  otherwise  the  chaukedar, 
is  of  the  thief  caste,  and  as  long  as  he  stalks  up  and 
down  your  compound,  pouring  forth  a  volley  of 
unearthly  yells,  or  even  if  he  sleeps  the  whole  night 
through,  you  may  be  sure  no  thieves  will  come  about 
your  place.  Then  there  is  the  sweeper  and  the  water- 
carrier,  the  man  to  wash  your  clothes,  the  man  to  sew, 
and  the  man  to  pull  the  punkah,  and  the  t\vo  men  for 
your  horse." 

"  Two  men ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Clinton,  fairly  be 
wildered  ;  "  this  is  indeed  going  beyond  reason ;  two 
men  for  one  little  horse !  Surely  one  man  can  be 
made  to  do  the  work,  can  he  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  with  a  good  deal  of  trouble  it  can  be  done,  but 
it  costs  just  as  much  to  buy  your  grass  as  to  keep  a  man 
to  cut  it,  and  is  very  inconvenient.  The  first  man  has 
charge  of  the  horse,  harness,  and  gari ;  keeps  them  clean 
and  oiled,  gets  the  latter  mended,  superintends  the 
shoeing  of  the  horse,  buys  the  feed,  and  drives  when 
you  have  not  a  conveyance  which  you  can  drive  your 
self.  .  The  second  man  goes  out  early  to  the  jungle, 
miles  away,  cuts  a  day's  allowance  of  grass,  and  brings 
it  home  on  his  head.  After  he  has  cleaned  the  horse 
and  stable  he  is  free  to  go  on  errands  or  carry  mes 
sages  ;  you  will  find  it  very  necessary  to  have  such  a 
man.  People  who  have  much  work  and  different 
kinds  keep  a  man  whose  sole  duty  is  to  carry  mes 
sages  and  notes." 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  103 

"  Do  you  find  it  absolutely  necessary  to  have  a 
horse  and  conveyance  ?  "  Mrs.  Clinton  asked,  in  rather 
a  despairing  tone.  She  was  beginning  to  feel  that  if 
she  were  able  to  keep  house  in  India,  to  say  nothing 
of  doing  any  mission  work,  she  would  have  her  hands 
full. 

"  Yes,  if  we  wish  to  do  any  mission  work  it  is  in 
dispensable  unless  we  have  school  work  in  the  same 
house  or  very  near.  Usually  the  different  parts  of 
the  work  are  so  far  apart  that  walking  is  an  utter  im 
possibility.  In  that  case  we  would  have  to  hire  a  gari 
every  time  we  went  out,  which  would  not  pay.  In 
the  hot  weather  people  must  have  a  gari  in  which  to 
go  out  and  get  the  air  in  the  evenings  or  die.  So 
your  economies  will  not  be  able  to  touch  any  of  these." 

"  But  you  spoke  of  the  extra  man  for  washing. 
Surely  among  so  many  the  washing  might  be  done 
without  an  especial  man.  It  is  simply  an  absurdity  to 
call  in  a  man  for  that." 

"  Well,  in  a  way  it  is,  but  in  another  way  it  is  not. 
In  the  first  place,  your  servants  and  their  wives  do  not 
even  know  how  to  do  their  own  washing  and  ironing, 
so  how  could  they  do  yours?"  she  added,  persuasively. 
"In  the  second  place,  tubs  and  soap  and  starch  and 
fire  would  cost  more,  far  more,  even  if  you  did  your 
washing  with  your  own  hands,  than  you  pay  the  man 
that  takes  your  clothes  down  to  the  river,  bleaches 
them  on  the  sands  in  the  hot  sun,  irons  them  in  his 
own  house,  and  brings  them  home  spick  and  span, 
barring  the  loss  of  buttons." 

Mrs.  Clinton  wrote  "laundryman"  on  her  paper  with 
a  sio;h  of  relief.  The  washing  at  home  had  been  the 

~  o 

one  trial  of  her  life.     She  hated  the  smell  of  suds  and 


104  TIIK  BISHOP'S  OONVKKSIOX. 

the  sloppy  way  the  best  of  washerwomen  would  clo 
the  work  in  her  neat  wash  room.  She  had  always 
hated  it  all,  and  when  she  had  not  been  well  she  had 
sent  it  away  from  the  house  to  be  done,  though  her 
heart  had  always  condemned  her  for  extravagance  in 
doing  so. 

"  Washing,  starching,  and  ironing  will  cost  for 
three  of  yon  only  about  lifty  cents  a  week,  and  you 
know  that  the  appliances  and  coal  would  cost  that 
much." 

Miss  Whitlow  said  this  in  a  persuasive  manner,  for, 
as  Mrs.  Clinton  sat  silent,  she  was  sure  she  was  not 
pleased. 

"O,"  said  she,  "  I  am  only  too  glad  to  find  that  it 
is  economy  to  have  it  done  away  from  the  house,  and 
if  I  could  send  a  battalion  of  these  men  to  America 
to  relieve  my  fellow-bondslaves  there  from  wash  day 
I  would  be  glad  indeed." 

After  a  little  more  talk  on  servants  Miss  Whitlow 
rose  to  go,  as  Katie  came  in  saying  the  cook  wanted 
to  know  if  the  Mem  Sahib  had  a  tablecloth. 

"  Yes,  I  am  glad  to  say  I  have,  for  I  brought  table 
and  bed  linen  and  forks  and  spoons  in  the  bottom  of 
my  trunk." 

"  Mrs.  Mackenzie  asked  me  to  bring  Katie  back 
with  me  if  you  did  not  need  her."  said  Miss  Whitlow. 

«/  ' 

"  Come,  Katie,  are  you  ready  2  O,  I  have  stayed  so 
long  that  my  principal  errand  has  been  forgotten.  I 
came  to  ask  you  to  come  to  the  station  meeting  at 
my  house  Saturday  night  at  seven  ;"  and  she  was  gone 
before  Mrs.  Clinton  could  ask  what  the  "  station 
meeting  "  was. 

The  Bishop  soon  came  home  filled  with  delight  over 


THE    COOK    HOUSE. 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  105 

the  four  boys'  day  schools  lie  had  visited  in  the  heart 
of  the  native  city.  He  was  so  interested  in  telling  of 
the  brightness  of  the  boys,  of  the  wonder  he  had  at  see 
ing  them  so  well  informed  and  so  well  able  to  repeat 
psalms,  hymns,  and  portions  of  the  Bible,  and  was  so 
generally  enthusiastic  that  he  was  not  very  critical  as 
to  their  breakfast ;  nor  did  he  seem  to  be  very  inter 
ested  in  her  plans  for  economy.  After  prayers,  to 
which  the  cook  was  called,  and  who  sat  on  the  floor 
like  a  tailor  during  the  reading  of  the  psalm,  only 
bowing  his  head  during  prayer,  the  Bishop  went  off 
again  with  Mr.  Miller  to  see  more  schools.  Then 
Mrs.  Clinton  called  the  cook  to  her  and  said : 

"I  intend  to  arrange  my  house  so  it  will  cost  as 
little  as  possible.  This  I  wish  to  do  that  I  may  help 
the  mission  which  has  done  so  much  and  is  doing  so 
much  for  you  and  your  brothers  and  friends,  and  I 
wish  you  to  help  me." 

The  man  salaamed. 

"  Xow,  for  three  of  us  there  can  be  very  little 
work.  I  shall  do  some  of  it  myself,  and  you  will  do 
the  remainder,  for  you  will  be  the  only  man  about  the 
place  until  a  horse  is  bought." 

The  man  looked  troubled.  He  thought  he  under 
stood  what  she  had  said ;  he  knew  she  was  the  wife  of 
the  Bara  Padri  Sahib  ;  so  she  could  hardly  be  out  of 
her  head  or  have  a  weak  mind,  but  his  English  was 
imperfect  and  he  waited  for  further  developments. 
The  native  of  India  does  not  often  lose  his  case  by 
being  in  too  much  of  a  hurry. 

"  It  is  the  custom  here,  I  am  told,  to  have  a  man  to 
draw  the  water  from  the  well  and  bring  it  to  the 
house;  you  certainly  can  do  this  yourself.  In  my 


106  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

country  the  cook  brings  the  water  as  well  as  cooks  the 
food." 

"  But,  Mem  Sahib,  well  very  deep,  take  long,  long 
time  to  bring  water,  things  all  burn  in  cookhouse,  and 
it  not  custom  here.  Me  not  make  bihisti's  work." 

"  But  if  I  ask  you  to  do  so  will  you  not  try  it  for 
two  days  ? " 

"  Yes,  Mem  Sahib,  if  it  please  you  I  make  an  ar 
rangement  for  two  days." 

"One  victory,"  thought  she,  "  and  very  easily 
gained,  for  if  he  can  do  it  for  two  days  he  will  not 
dare  refuse  to  do  it  afterward." 

Had  she  understood  the  limitless  elasticity  of  the 
word  "  arrangement "  she  could  hardly  have  been  so 
exultant. 

"  Now,  everybody  has  a  bearer  and  khidmatgar.  I 
shall  not  have  these.  You  must  wait  on  the  table  and 
I  will  dust  and  care  for  the  house.  You  can  cook 
the  food,  put  it  in  the  dishes,  and  then  put  on  a  clean 
coat  and  bring  the  food  in." 

"  Yes.  your  honor ;  "  but  his  voice  was  lifeless,  and 
even  his  pugri,  which  \vas  so  big  and  overpowering, 
seemed  to  lose  some  of  its  starched  smartness  and  to 
wither  and  droop  over  his  face. 

"  This  is  all  right,"  thought  Mrs.  Clinton,  "  he  will 
not  mind  after  a  few  days ;"  so  she  was  encouraged  to 
go  on. 

"In  my  country,  which  is  a  great  and  powerful 
country,,  my  cook  sweeps  my  floors.  It  is  always 
done  when  only  one  servant  is  kept.  Can  you  not 
also  do  the  sweeping?" 

A  look  of  horror  had  been  gradually  stealing  over 
the  dark  face.  The  new  Mem  Sahibs  were  always 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  107 

funny  when  they  first  came  out,  and  said  and  did  many 
funny  things,  over  which  he  and  his  fellow-servants 
had  often  made  merry  around  the  hookah ;  but  this 
surpassed  everything ;  to  be  bearer  and  khidmatgar 
was  bad  enough,  though  it  might  be  done ;  but  to  be 
water-carrier,  and,  worst  of  all  and  beyond  all  belief, 
to  be  asked  to  be  sweeper  !  The  new  Mem  Sahib's  hus 
band  was  undoubtedly  a  great  and  wise  man,  but  she 
was  insane  beyond  all  doubt.  A  sweeper !  To  do  the 
work  of  one  of  those  depised  outcasts!  Why,  even 
his  fellow-Christians  would  not  eat  or  drink  with  him 
if  he  did  such  an  awful  thing  as  that ! 

"  !N"o,  Mem  Sahib  !  Xo  !  It  never  done.  I  not 
sweeper.  I — I  not  make  cooking  for  you  ;  "  and  he 
fled  in  fear  and  dismay  from  the  room. 

Mrs.  Clinton  saw  the  man's  unaffected  horror  ;  she 
was  almost  sure  she  had  seen  his  face  grow  pale,  and 
he  had  trembled  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind.  Pondering 
on  it  she  decided  she  must  give  this  up  also,  and 
write  down  "  sweeper  "  under  "  cook  "  and  keep  on  in 
her  service  Dr.  Thompson's  sweeper,  whom  she  had 
seen  about  the  compound. 

She  referred  to  her  paper  and  found  it  would  only 
add  a  dollar  and  a  half  per  month  to  her  expenses,  so 
she  went  out  on  the  veranda  and  called  to  the  cook, 
but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  She  went  on  to  the 
cookhouse,  found  the  key  in  the  door,  but  no  signs  of 
the  cook.  She  came  back  to  the  house,  her  head  swim 
ming  and  having  a  strange  sick  feeling  that  made  her 
wish  to  lie  down,  but  she  stood  in  the  door  a  moment 
trying  to  think  what  she  ought  to  do  next.  She  cer 
tainly  could  not  go  to  Mrs.  Mackenzie  and  ask  her  to 
get  another  cook  ;  pride  forbade  that,  and  Mrs.  Clinton 


108  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

had  her  share  of  this  unregenerate  commodity.  But 
how  to  do  otherwise  she  did  not  know,  unless  she  asked 
Miss  "Whitlow,  and  in  any  case  one  could  not  be  had  in 
a  day.  They  might  be  without  food  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  perhaps  longer.  Mrs.  Mackenzie  had  said  that 
good  cooks  were  very  scarce  at  that  time  of  the  year, 
though  three  months  later  there  would  be  plenty,  and 
as  to  finding  another  Christian  cook,  it  would  probably 
take  a  long  time,  and  much  of  her  hope  of  fairly  try 
ing  her  experiment  lay  in  having  a  Christian.  While 
she  stood  thus  she  heard  a  gari,  and  looking  in  its 
direction  she  saw  one  of  the  usual  hired  carriages, 
with  its  wretched,  thin,  scraggy  little  ponies  and  its 
shabby  harness  pieced  out  by  bits  of  rope.  The 
gari  had  on  its  top  the  usual  roll  of  bed  and  bedding, 
done  up  in  a  bit  of  striped  yarn  carpet,  the  turkey-red 
quilts  showing  at  each  end,  and  the  cabin  trunk,  and 
the  cane  lunch  basket,  which  are  the  distinguishing 
marks  of  the  missionary's  luggage  when  he  travels. 

The  occupant  of  the  gari  was  looking  eagerly  about, 
and  the  instant  the  horses  stopped  was  out  with  an 
energetic  spring  that  told  at  least  of  health.  He  was 
in  the  house  and  then  out,  and  coming  across  the  com 
pound,  taking  a  visiting-card  out  of  a  notebook  as  he 
came,  and  looking  for  a  servant  to  present  it  for  him. 
Seeing  none,  he  advanced  toward  Mrs.  Clinton,  who 
met  him  with  outstretched  hand,  sure  of  a  friend  and 
almost  sure  of  a  future  neighbor. 

"  I  am  Carnton  ;  I  have  come  to  fill  my  appointment 
at  the  Christian  College,  and  also,  I  am  very  glad  to 
hear,  to  be  a  neighbor  of  yours." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  leading  the  way  to  the 
sitting  room;  "  my  husband  told  me  of  you.  He  said 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  109 

he  knew  you.  But  you  were  expected  before,  though 
no  one  knew  just  when  you  were  coming." 

"  I  did  not  know  myself  when  I  could  get  off.  There 
are  so  many  people  to  see  and  so  many  last  things  to 
do  in  leaving  one  station  for  another  that  it  is  impos 
sible  to  do  it  quickly ;  and  just  as  I  was  about  to  start, 
ten  days  ago,  a  man  came  from  a  village  not  far  away 
and  asked  me  to  go  and  baptize  him  and  his  family. 
I  went  and  stayed  until  I  baptized  the  whole  village ; 
then  I  had  to  arrange  for  a  preacher  to  be  left  in  the 
village  to  take  charge  of  them  and  keep  them  in 
structed,  as  my  successor  had  not  then  arrived." 

Noting  the  gladness  on  his  face,  Mrs.  Clinton  an 
swered,  .sympathetically  : 

"It  was  well  worth  being  detained.  Were  you  far 
from  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  far  in  more  ways  than  one.  I  was  quite 
away  from  any  English  or  Americans,  and  months 
sometimes  passed  without  seeing  a  white  face.  Five 
days'  march  in  the  mountains  from  anywhere  would 
about  express  the  situation." 

"  You  will  like  this  better,"  she  said,  looking  at  the 
handsome,  earnest  face,  thinking  that  he  belonged 
with  society  and  with  friends. 

"No,"  smiling;  "I  confess  to  you  that  I  do  not,  but 
I  am  under  orders,  and  what  I  am  given  to  do  I  try 
to  do  with  my  might,  'heartily  as  unto  the  Lord,  and 
not  as  unto  men,'  myself  among  the  latter." 

"  How  could  it  be  possible  that  you  do  not  like  this 
better  ?  I  can  see  that  you  might  be  willing  to  stay 
there,  but  how  could  you  like  it  ?  " 

There  was  a  smile  rather  to  himself  than  to  her. 

"  If  I  took  time  to  tell  you  I  should  miss  an  engage- 


110  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVKHSION*. 

ment  that  I  must  keep,  as  it  is  with  a  native  Chris 
tian;  but  if  you  will  allow  me  I  will  explain  when  I 
have  time  enough  to  convince  you  I  am  in  earnest. 
Now  I  am  in  difficulty  as  to  my  housekeeping,  and 
have  come  to  throw  myself  on  your  mercy." 

Mrs.  Clinton  looked  and  felt  alarmed.  The  only 
thing  that  was  presented  to  her  mind  was  a  vision  of 
her  fleeing  cook,  his  white  coat-tail  waving  in  the 
wind  as  he  ran  from  her. 

Carnton  saw  her  hesitation  and  hastened  to  ex 
plain  : 

"  I  have  my  cook  with  me,  but  no  cooking  utensils 
nor  anything  for  the  table.  I  had  hoped  you  would 
1st  me  come  and  have  my  breakfast  and  dinners  with 
you ;  my  cook  would  assist,  and  it  would  really  be  no 
trouble  to  anyone."  Then  he  laughed,  such  a  cheery, 
happy  laugh.  "  Hear  me  force  myself  upon  you,  and 
then  say  that  Americans  have  no  cheek.  But  we  are 
so  accustomed  to  considering  ourselves  as  one  family 
that  I  forgot  you  might  not  understand  our  encroach 
ing  ways." 

At  the  mention  of  his  cook  the  brow  of  his  listener 
cleared  at  once,  and  a  burden  as  heavy  as  that 
carried  by  Atlas  rolled  off  her  shoulders.  She  would 
now  be  saved  the  necessity  of  an  explanation  with 
Mrs.  Mackenzie,  and  she  only  just  now  knew  how 
much  she  had  dreaded  to  go  to  her  and  explain. 

"  O,  it  is  not  that,"  she  hastened  to  say,  "  but  I 
have  as  yet  made  no  arrangements  for  myself,  and  I 
have  no  cook;  otherwise  we  would  be  delighted  to 
have  you  with  us." 

"  Ah,  but  perhaps  you  would  not  mind  letting  my 
cook  officiate  until  you  can  do  better." 


OPENING  HOUSEKEEPING.  Ill 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  indeed.  I  really  did  not 
know  what  to  do,  but  this  will  solve  the  problem," 
she  said,  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"How  have  you  managed?  Perhaps  your  bearer 
can  cook." 

"  I  have  no  bearer ;  I  had  a  cook  this  morning,  but 
he  has  departed,  not  to  return." 

Carnton  looked  the  inquiry  he  did  not  speak. 

"I  might  as  well  tell  him  if  he  is  to  be  with  us," 
thought  she. 

"  The  cook  left  because  I  told  him  I  intended  to  do 
as  we  did  in  America — keep  only  one  person  to  do  the 
work;  that  he  must  carry  the  water  and  sweep  the 
floors." 

"  What?"  cried  Carnton  aghast,  "you  do  not  mean  it." 

"  Certainly ;  why  not  ?  If  he  is  a  Christian  he 
cannot  be  bound  by  caste." 

"Not  by  caste,  but  by  custom,  and  I  hardly  need 
tell  you  that  it  is  utterly  impossible.  There  is  not  a 
cook  in  India  that  will  draw  and  bring  the  water  and 
sweep  your  floors ;  and,  what  is  still  more  serious,  I 
fear  you  will,  when  the  man  once  spreads  his  story, 
be  entirely  unable  to  get  anyone  at  all,  even  if  you 
now  concede  these  points.  I  beg  your  pardon  if  I 
am  speaking  too  plainly.  I  fear  we  mrsionaries  be 
come  rather  brusque  from  our  close  associations  and 
the  uncomfortable  way  we  have  of  speaking  the 
truth  to  each  other,  especially  if  it  be  disagreeable;  but 
I  will  go  and  send  my  man  over  at  once." 

The   arrangement  was   made,   and   Carnton  came 

o  x 

regularly  to  his  meals,  and  the  cook  stayed  on,  and  a 
water-carrier  and  sweeper  did  the  work  expected  of 
them,  and  peace  reigned  for  a  space. 


112  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

VISITING  MISSIONARIES. 

THE  national  practice  of  reversing  the  proverb  in 
regard  to  doing  things  to-day  and  not  to-morrow 
prevents  any  great  expedition  in  settling  a  house. 

The  American,  who  generally  overdoes  the  matter 
in  trying  to  do  a  week's  work  in  one  day,  finds  his 
practice  of  rushing  and  pushing  and  hurrying  as  much 
out  of  place  in  India  as  his  furnaces  and  warm  carpets. 
A  whole  nation  moving  in  opposite  lines  to  his  custom 
and  habits  is,  at  first,  trying  beyond  expression,  and 
the  chances  are  that  his  gentle  and  peaceful  disposi 
tion,  which  was  the  admiration  of  his  friends,  disap 
pears,  and  he  becomes  nervous,  irritable,  and  perhaps 
bad-tempered.  Xo  doubt  if  a  person  could  come  to 
India  with  plenty  of  money,  and  without  the  slightest 
interest  under  the  sun  in  having  anything  accom 
plished,  he  would  be  in  harmony  with  his  environment 
and  all  would  be  well. 

But  no  one  comes  under  these  circumstances,  and 
the  only  way  to  save  one's  time  and  temper  is  to  have 
many  things  brewing  at  once  and  possess  the  soul  in 
patience. 

For  instance,  a  table  is  sent  to  the  carpenter's  shop 
to  be  repaired.  The  carpenter  promises  faithfully  to 
have  it  done  "kal,"  that  is,  to-morrow.  You  send  for 
it,  the  shop  is  locked  and  the  man  away  somewhere  tak- 


VISITING  MissioxAun  -.  113 

ino;  other  work  to  be  done  the  following  kal.    You  wait 

O  O 

two  days  and  send  again.  It  is  not  done,  but  will  be  kal. 
You  wait  a  week,  because  some  other  things  besides 
sending  for  the  table  must  be  done,  and  then  send  again 
and  again.  After  a  month  it  comes  home,  only  to  be 
returned,  because  imperfectly  repaired.  Again,  a 
sewing  man,  or  dirzi,  promises  to  come  kal,  and  sit 
cross-legged  on  your  veranda  and  make  the  white 
suits  the  Sahib  needs  so  much.  Days  go  on,  and  when 
you  have  partially  engaged  another  man  he  presents 
himself  one  day  when  you  have  a  meeting  on  hand, 
and  cannot  measure  out  the  cloth  for  him,  so  you  will 
not  know  if  he  takes  any  for  his  own  use,  or,  worse 
still,  when  you  cannot  give  him  directions  in  order 
that  he  may  not  spoil  it  all. 

Another  man  promises  to  come  kal  and  bring  glass 
and  putty  to  mend  the  doors  which  the  men  broke 
when  they  were  taking  down  the  punkah  poles.  You 
are  in  a  hurry  to  have  it  done.  It  ought  to  have  been 
done  months  ago,  but  now  the  hot  winds  are  begin 
ning  to  blow,  and  the  house  must  be  hermetically 
closed.  Days  pass,  and  then  when  you  send  to  inquire 
you  are  told  he  has  gone  to  another  station,  or  that  he 
is  very  ill.  The  latter  excuse  may  mean  that  he  has 
more  lucrative  work  on  hand.  You  engage  another, 
and  he  also  promises  to  come  kal,  and  you  are  uncom 
monly  lucky  if  your  work  is  done  after  five  or  six 
days.  These  are  only  examples ;  the  whole  round  of 
life  is  the  same,  and  reminds  one  of  the  remark  on 
jam  by  "  Alice  in  Wonderland  :  " 

"We  always  have  jam  to-morrow  or  yesterday,  but 
never  to-day." 

This  is  made  more  applicable  to  the  case  by  the  fact 


114  THE  BISHOP'S  CON  VERSION. 

that  the  word  "  kal "  means  both  to-morrow  and  yes 
terday,  and  shows  the  utter  indifference  of  the  Hindoo 
to  time. 

The  house  in  which  the  Clintons  were  domiciled 
had  been  left  hurriedly  by  the  Thompsons,  and  there 
was  much  to  be  done — plaster  to  be  patched,  nails  to 
be  driven,  new  matting  to  be  put  down,  a  chair  or 
two  to  be  repaired,  and  some  general  cleaning  and 
whitewashing  which  had  not  been  done  at  the  close  of 
the  hot  season,  the  usual  time  for  repairs,  because  of 
the  illness  of  Mrs.  Thompson.  When  Mrs.  Clinton 
consulted  Mr.  Carnton  that  first  evening  at  dinner 
he  said  he  would  tell  the  cook  to  call  the  men  to  the 
house  who  would  make  the  repairs.  They  would 
come  and  do  it  while  die  was  making  calls  or  seeing 
mission  work  if  she  would  first  show  the  cook  what 
she  wanted  done,  as  it  must  be  supervised  by  some 
one.  It  was  really  the  bearer's  work,  and  she  must 
not  expect  it  would  be  done  properly  without  a  bearer 
to  supervise,  as  the  cook  did  not  understand  it,  and  he 
would  be  in  the  cookhouse  and  could  not  answer  for 
the  safety  of  things  in  the  rooms  where  the  men 
would  work. 

Then  she  said  she  would  stay  at  home  and  have 
work  done  only  in  two  rooms  at  once,  and  Lillian 
could  watch  them  in  one  room  and  she  in  another, 
which  to  Carnton  seemed  a  great  waste  of  time.  At 
any  rate,  he  advised  her  not  to  stay  at  home  the  first 
day,  but  go  and  make  calls  with  him.  He  further 
explained  that  it  was  the  duty  of  every  new  person 
coming  to  a  place  to  make  the  first  calls  on  all  the 
English  and  Americans  living  in  the  station,  and  if 
they  were  pleased  with  him  they  returned  his  calls  ;  if 


VISITING  MISSIONARIES.  115 

not,  the  calls  were  ignored.  He  had  just  two  days  in 
which  to  settle  his  house,  make  his  calls,  then  would 
come  Sunday,  and  on  Monday  his  work  would  begin 
in  the  college.  He  did  not  like  to  make  calls,  and  was 
glad  he  had  no  more  time  ;  but  there  were  a  few 
places  he  must  go  to,  and  he  begged  her  to  go  with 
him.  The  Bishop  was  deep  in  mission  work,  and 
utterly  refused  to  go,  though  he  insisted,  like  many 
another  missionary,  on  his  wife  doing  duty  for  both. 

So  a  gari  Mas  hired,  and  they  started  out  early  in 
the  morning  to  visit  the  missionaries  and  see  their 
work.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Mrs.  Clinton 
loathed  hired  garis,  because  they  were  dirty  and  rat 
tled,  and  because  the  drivers  beat  the  poor  horses  that 
always  looked  ready  to  drop  with  overwork  and  lack 
of  food.  She  would  have  walked  had  the  distance 
permitted;  and  she  was  pleased  to  see  that  it  would 
cost  them  more  to  hire  a  conveyance  than  it  would  to 
buy  a  comfortable  little  phaeton  and  a  decent  horse. 

There  was  another  drawback  to  her  going  out  be 
sides  hiring  garis.  She  had  been  advised  by  Mrs. 
Mackenzie  not  to  leave  Lillian  alone  with  the  serv 
ants,  but  to  hire  a  native  Christian  woman  to  stay 
with  her  while  she  was  out ;  but  as  she  meant  to  be 
out  every  day  it  would  add  another  to  the  list  of  peo 
ple  she  was  having  to  do  her  work,  and  she  was  not 
ready  to  do  that  yet,  though  she  much  wanted  Lillian 
to  go  on  with  her  lessons,  which  she  could  not  do  if 
she  always  went  with  her  mother.  However,  she 
had  to  take  her  this  time.  They  went  first  to  the 
High  School  and  Christian  College. 

The  building  in  which  this  was  held  was  well 
built  and  commodious  and  set  in  the  center  of  a  large 


116  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

compound  in  which  were  growing  many  young  trees. 
Across  the  road  was  another  building  in  its  first  stages, 
which  would  be  still  larger  and  which  would  be  for 
the  college  solely.  At  one  side  were  long  rows  of 
houses  where  boys  slept  and  ate ;  the  missionary's 
bungalow  was  also  in  the  same  compound. 

The  Bishop  had  preceded  them  with  Mr.  Miller. 
They  found  the  boys  coming  in  for  morning 
prayers  as  they  arrived,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  watched 
them  with  great  interest  as  they  came  quietly  and 
gently  into  the  room,  salaaming  to  her  as  they  passed, 
their  embroidered  caps  and  coats  of  various  colors  and 
materials  bringing  out  the  exquisite  olive  tint  of 
their  skins  and  the  soft  brilliance  of  their  dark  eyes 
in  a  most  pleasing  way  and  in  pleasant  contrast  to 
the  English  dress  which  many  of  the  Christians  had 
on.  While  she  was  watching  them  and  thinking  of 
the  many  sides  of  mission  work  the  Bishop  was  in 
terviewing  Mr.  Miller.  He  asked  questions  like  a 
school  inspector  as  to  the  number  and  grade  of  the 
students,  and  learned  that  of  the  four  hundred  boys 
enrolled  one  fourth  of  the  number  were  Christians, 
as  also  were  one  fourth  of  the  members  of  the  col 
lege  class,  besides  many  other  things  which  he  stored 
away  for  future  pondering. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  after  eliciting  this  information, 
"  I  should  like  to  know  the  real  essence  of  the  school 
— what  has  it  done,  what  can  it  do,  and  wrhat  do  you 
expect  it  will  do  more  than  the  other  and  secular 
schools  of  the  country  ?  " 

Mr.  Miller  hesitated  a  little,  and  then  said  : 

"  These  three  divisions  of  your  question  will  liave 
to  be  taken  as  one  in  my  answer,  for  they  are  insepa- 


VlsiTI.Vi;    MISSIONARIES.  117 

rable.  It  has  not  done  all  it  can  do,  nor  all  we  expect 
it  to  do,  for  it  is  still  in  the  formative  process;  but 
the  need  of  this,  as  well  as  other  schools  which  you 
will  see,  comes  from  the  fact  that  we  have  an  organ 
ized  Church  here,  a  body  that  has  members  that  artic 
ulate  with  each  other  and  are  necessary  to  the  exertion 
of  its  full  powers.  A  fourth  of  these  boys  arc  Chris 
tians  ;  some  of  them  Christians,  as  perhaps  your  or  my 
boys  are,  because  their  parents  are  so  ;  others  genu 
ine  Christians  with  a  comprehension  of  what  Christ's 
life  means  to  his  followers.  Now,  would  you  be  will 
ing  to  put  either  of  these  classes  into  a  school  where 
they  would  be  taught  that  Ingersoll's  ideas  and  Spen 
cer's  philosophy  were  true,  which  of  course  means 
that  Christianity  is  false?" 

';  It  is  unnecessary  to  answer  such  a  question." 
u  Very  well ;  then  I  do  not  need  to  explain  that 
Christian  boys  require  a  separate  school.  That  in 
itself,  then,  is  enough  excuse  for  the  school;  but 
the  other  side  of  the  same  question  is  still  stronger. 
The  positive  benefit  from  being  in  a  Christian 
school  is  in  the  daily  study  and  exposition  of  the 
Bible  as  one  of  the  regular  lessons,  prayers  in  the 
morning,  the  weekly  prayer  meetings,  in  Christian  so 
ciety  and  the  association  together  of  those  of  the 
same  belief.  Many  of  them  will  go  from  here  to  our 
theological  school  at  Bareilly,  and  I  need  not  say  to 
you  that  they  will  be  much  better  prepared  for  that 
than  had  they  been  under  Mohammedan  or  heathen 
influence." 

"  I  grant  this,  but  it  after  all  must  preclude  much 
evangelistic  work.  You  and  Carnton  here  will  give 
up  your  time  to  the  dreary  round  of  teaching, perhaps 


118  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

mathematics,  when  you  might  be  going  forth  sowing 
beside  all  waters." 

Miller  looked  perplexed. 

""Well,"  he  said,  "if  y on r  plan  in  building  up  a 
Church  is  to  have  only  evangelists  and  evangelical 
work,  of  course  then  that  closes  the  subject  at  once, 
but  you  surely  do  not  expect  to  depend  for  the  bone 
and  sinew  of  any  Church  on  evangelists.  They  have 
their  place,  and  a  noble  place  it  is,  too ;  but  our  own 
Church  at  home  would  hardly  have  assumed  its  pres 
ent  proportions  had  it  had  only  evangelical  work. 
Xow,  simply  to  put  a  point  on  this,  tell  me  how  much 
do  you  depend  on  them  at  home,  small  or  great, 
known  or  unknown,  in  the  real  permanent  building 
up  of  the  Church?" 

"^fot  very  much,"  was  the  dry  answer.  This  was 
a  home  thrust,  for  this  particular  Bishop  had  had  par 
ticular  trials  with  those  wandering  stars  who  flash 
here. and  flash  there,  exerting  a  sudden  and  strong 
influence  that  is  sometimes  as  fleeting  as  strong, 
leaving  the  pastors  of  the  churches  they  had  helped 
or  hindered  to  the  toil  of  gathering  up  the  frag 
ments,  to  the  educating  and  upbuilding  of  the  con 
verts  they  have  made, -only  to  flnd  in  many  cases 
that  the  converts  have  been  to  the  evangelist,  and 
not  to  God. 

"  Very  well ;  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
people  who  have  always  lived  under  the  deadening 
and  dwarfing  influence  of  heathen  superstition  require 
more  teaching  and  more  steady  drill,  and  better 
grounding,  than  those  that  have  heard  the  truth  from 
their  childhood  up  2" 

"  I  must  answer  yes  to  this,  of  course." 


SITI.M;    MISSIONARIES.  119 


"  Then  let  me  leave  this  point  until  you  see  how 
much  of  a  church  we  have  here  already,  how  much 
of  an  organized  body,  and  then  let  me  ask  you  if  you 
wish  us  all  to  be  evangelists.  We  must  have  some 

o 

who  do  this  work  alone,  and  it  is  a  glorious  -work  to 
do.  a  stimulating,  exciting  hand-to-hand  war;  but  we 
cannot  choose  our  work.  Some  have  a  fitness  for  that, 
and  some  must  do  the  drudgery;  "  and  he  sighed  a 
little. 

"  There  is  another  point  that  I  nearly  forgot,"  he 
added.  ••  We  also  do  in  these  schools  a  great  deal  of 
evangelical  work.  The  Christian  students  and  teach 
ers  turn  out  on  Sunday  to  teach  and  preach,  and  many 
of  the  .students  who  come  here  with  an  aversion  to 
Christianity  are  baptized  and  become  among  onr  best 
workers,  because  their  understandings  arc  converted  as 
well  as  their  hearts." 

Carnton  was  talking  with  some  of  the  boys  when 
the  silence-bell  rang,  and  Mr.  Miller,  after  introduc 
ing  the  Bishop,  also  introduced  Carnton  to  the  boys  as 
the  new  vice-principal.  They  rose  quietly,  with  their 
beautiful  black  eyes  only  moderately  curious. 

"  One  Sahib  is  apparently  the  same  as  another  to 
them,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  noticing  the  lack  of  interest 
on  their  faces.  This  was  a  mistake.  The  fact  was 
the  new  .missionary  teacher  had  been  thoroughly  dis 
cussed  among  them,  and  they  knew  him  well  even  be 
fore  they  had  seen  him,  knew  his  antecedents,  his 
qualifications,  his  friends,  and,  above  all,  his  disposition 
and  temperament,  better,  perhaps,  than  any  of  his  own 
friends  did. 

Every  native,  whether  he  be  gentleman  or  cooly, 
has  two  faces  —  two  characters:  one  which  he  turns 


120  TFIE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

only  to  the  English  or  American,  and  one  which  the 
people  of  his  own  nation  see.  They  are  not  alike,  they 
possess  no  resemblance  to  each  other  in  any  respect, 
and  yet  we  cannot  say  that  one  is  true  and  the  other 
false.  Perhaps  it  is  safe  to  say  the  face  that  his  conn 
try  men  see  is  truer,  for  it  is  doubtful  if  ever  the  con 
queror  sees  the  conquered  in  a  true  light ;  so  it  did  not 
mean  that  because  these  young  men  appeared  indif 
ferent  they  were  so. 

After  the  Bishop  had  spoken  to  them  in  English, 
and  asked  some  questions  as  to  their  purposes  and 
plans,  and  sat  down  with  beaming  face,  Mr.  Miller 
translating  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  did  not  under 
stand  English,  Mrs.  Clinton  was  presented,  and  Mr. 
Miller  asked  her  to  "  say  a  few  words." 

She  rose  and,  looking  at  the  sea  of  faces  before  her, 
on  which  interest,  curiosity,  and  surprise  were  blended, 
though  in  a  very  moderate  degree,  said  : 

"  In  olden  times  a  guest  was  allowed  to  make  a  re 
quest.  "I  should  like  to  make  two  this  morning.  You 
can  grant  two,  1  think,  because  of  the  great  distance  I 
have  come,  can  you  not  ?" 

Mr.  Miller  smiled  as  he  asked  them  to  respond,  and 
every  hand  went  up. 

"  First,  when  you  marry  that  each  will  try  to  give; 
his  wife  as  much  of  the  instruction  he  has  received 
here  as  is  possible." 

The  principal  paused,  before  he  translated,  to  say 
to  her  that  the  majority  of  the  non-Christians  were 
already  married,  the-  absurdity  of  which  statement 
struck  his  visitors  with  far  more  force  when  looking 
at  the  youthful  faces  than  when  reading  it  in  a  mis 
sion  report. 


VISITI.NO  MISSIONARII  s.  121 

There  were  smiles  all  around  at  her  request,  and  a 
hearty  promise  of  the  perfect  fulfillment  of  which 
Mr.  Miller  had  doubts  in  his  heart. 

Pleased  with  her  success,  she  made  the  second  re 
quest,  that  "  when  you  have  obtained  the  position 
for  which  this  education  will  fit  you  you  will  always 
remember  kindly  the  school  in  which  you  have  re 
ceived  it  and  give  something  to  help  others  to  the 
same  blessing  you  are  now  enjoying." 

This  was  promptly  promised  by  the  Christian  lads, 
who  formed  about  one  fourth  of  the  number,  and 
less  readily  by  most  of  the  remainder  ;  by  some  half 
heartedly,  and  a  few  made  no  response  at  all. 

After  prayer  the  boys  were  soon  dismissed,  and  Mrs. 
Clinton,' Lillian,  and  Mr.  Carnton  left  Mr.  Miller,  who 
was.  always  ready  to  utilize  everybody,  making  arrange 
ments  with  the  Bishop  for  a  course  of  lectures  on  the 
Authenticity  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  Divinity  of 
Christ,  and  some  other  kindred  subjects  in  which  he 
was  known  to  be  strong,  and  got  into  the  gari  and 
drove  to  the  Girls'  High  School,  which  was  in  the 
same  compound  as  the  Zenana  Home  and  a  mile  from 
the  Christian  College. 

This  school  is  compose, 1  of  afew  English,  but  mostly 
Eurasian  and  native  girls,  numbering  in  all  about  a 
hundred  and  forty.  They  were  taken  by  Miss  Dillon^ 
the  superintendent  of  the  school,  through  the  dormi 
tory,  where  they  saw  the  plain  little  rooms  with  simple 
charpais  or  native  beds,  saw  the  flat  cakes  called  chap- 
paties  being  prepared  by  the  hundred  for  their  break 
fast,  saw  the  garden  where  the  girls  could  walk  or 
play,  and  then  went  on  to  the  schoolhouse,  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  dormitory. 


l*2'2  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVKKSI.>X. 

The  different  grades  were  busy  under  different 
teachers,  mostly  in  separate  rooms,  and  they  all  satis 
fied  Mrs.  Clinton's  ideas  of  propriety  by  sitting  on 
benches.  Several  of  the  teachers  were  from  this  ven 
school  and  seemed  to  be  teaching  earnestly  and  well, 
and  proud  to  show  the  progress  of  their  pupils. 

They  finally  stopped  in  a  room  filled  with  the  more 
advanced  pupils,  who  were  having  their  Scripture  les 
son. 

"This  one,"  said  Miss  Dillon,  pointing  to  a  well- 
grown  girl,  "  will  go  into  the  college  class  next  year, 
and  this  one  will  enter  the  Lady  Dufferin  Medical 
College  at  Agra,  and  this  one  will  take  up  regular  mis 
sion  work  under  Miss  Lo\ve." 

"  And  do  they  not  wish  to  marry  early,  as  tlu-ir 
friends  do?""  asked  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"Sometimes,  though  in  many  cases  here  marriage 
does  not  interfere  with  their  occupations.  I  will  tell 
you  more  of  this  another  time.  "Will  you  kindly  ques 
tion  the  class  a  -little?  It  is  good  for  them,  and  please 
ask  them  difficult  questions." 

So  she  asked  the  first  one  to  give  her  a  list  of  the 
miracles.  This  was  done  promptly  and  chronologically, 
with  a  description  of  the  places  and  events  whu-h 
called  them  forth.  Then  she  asked  for  the  parables, 
and  they  were  given  equally  well,  an;l,  as  Mr.  Carn- 
ton  said,  better  than  nine  tenths  of  the  theological  stu 
dents  in  America  could.  .V  few  other  questions  were 
answered  promptly  and  with  pleasure,  some  speaking  in 
Hindoostanee,  which  Miss  Dillon  translated,  but  most 
in  good  English.  After  expressing  themselves  as  ex 
tremely  well  pleased  with  everything,  they  left  a  mes 
sage  for  Miss  Lowe,  who  with  her  assistants  was  out 


VISITINU  MISSIONARIES,  123 

in  the  zenanas,  and  was  about  to  take  her  leave  when 
Miss  Dillon,  noting  the  looks  of  interest  from  the  girls 
toward  Lillian,  asked  her  mother  to  leave  her  at  the 
school  for  the  day,  saying  she  would  bring  her  back  at 
night.  Mrs.  Clinton  gladly  acceded  to  her  request, 
and  she  and  Carnton  were  soon  out  on  the  street  go 
ing  toward  the  Home  for  the  Homeless. 

"They  are  pushing  things  to  the  utmost  in  the 
school  now,  as  we  do  everywhere  in  the  mission  daring 
the  short  cold  weather,  hoping  things  may  acquire 
enough  momentum  to  carry  themselves  on  dur 
ing  the  great  heat  that  will  soon  be  here.  There  is 

o  o 

already  a  lessening  of  the  bracing  quality  of  the  air 
to-day,  and  I  have  not  begun  my  work,"  Carnton 
said,  a  little  anxiously. 

"  I  see  no  difference  between  to-day  and  the  other 
days  I  have  been  here." 

•'  I  suppose  not,  but  you  do  see  there  is  a  wind  2 " 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  getting  stronger." 

"  Very  well,  that  is  the  beginning  of  the  "  lu,"  which 
I  shall  not  describe  to  you,  for  I  cannot.  I  suppose 
you  noticed  what  a  line  property  the  ladies'  society 
has  here.  It  was  bought  at  a  great  bargain,  and  be 
longed  to  one  of  the  members  of  the  court  of  one  of 
the  old  kings  of  Oude,  as  did  the  tomb  where  we  are 
going  also  did." 

"What  a  pity  Mis.s  Whitlow  could  not  have  found 
a  better  place  for  her  women  !  I  do  not  like  to  think 
of  one  of  our  missionaries  living  in  a  tomb,"  said  .Mrs. 
Clinton. 

Carnton  laughed  and  said  : 

"  "Wait  till  you  have  seen  it.  There  are  tombs  and 
tombs." 


121  THE  BISHOP^S  CVxvi  '.;-I..N*. 

It  was  a  great  rambling  structure  with  a  large  dome 
in  the  center,  and  there  was  a  pleasant  garden  in  front 
of  it. 

"  It  is  not  a  very  yra  re-look  ing  place  for  a  tomb, 
after  all,  is  it  ?  "  said  Carnton. 

She  had  time  only  to  smile,  when  they  were  met  by 
Miss  Whitlow  on  the  veranda.  The  rooms  were 
large  and  divided  by  Saracenic  arches.  It  had  been 
built  by  a  Mohammedan  gentleman  for  his  own  tomb, 
and  he  had  actually  been  buried  in  the  large  central 
room  under  the  dome. 

"  "What  a  fine  place  for  exercising  one's  taste,  and 
how  I  should  like  to  drape  it  and  decorate  it !  One's 
fancy  could  run  riot  here,  and  still  there  would  never 
be  too  much  ornamentation.  How  can  you  resist 
it?"  as  she  looked  around  and  saw  how  bare  and  un 
adorned  it  was.  Only  a  few  chairs  and  tables  scattered 
like  oases  in  a  desert  and  a  few  pictures  on  the  wall. 

"  There  are  two  trifling  obstacles  to  letting  my 
aesthetic  tendencies  come  to  the  front — that  is,  time 
and  money." 

"  But  I  saw  so  many  pretty  pieces  of  cotton  in  the 
bazar,  and  Mrs.  Mackenzie  told  me  they  are  only  a 
few  cents  a  yard,  and  so  very  pretty,  and,  put  here  and 
there,  they  would  make  these  rooms  so  restful  for  you 
when  your  work  is  over." 

"After  my  work  is  over  I  shall  want  a  smaller 
tomb  than  this,"  was  the  quiet  answer.  '•  And  an 
other  obstacle,"  she  went  on  in  a  lighter  tone,  "  when 
my  women  want  new  dresses  and  chuddars,  if  I  did 
not  have  money  to  buy  them  I  would  take  down  my 
draperies  one  by  one,  and  the  marks  in  the  plaster  of 
the  nails  would  be  there  to  reproach  me  for  my 


WITI.NC    MISSIONARIES.  125 

extravagance.  But  will  you  come  now,  Mrs.  Clinton, 
and  see  the  women  ?  I  cannot  ask  you  to  come,  Mr. 
rarnto:i,  much  as  I  should  like  to  do  so." 

"Very  well,  I  will  walk  on  home  then,  and  get 
some  writing  done  before  breakfast ;"  and  he  was  off. 

They  -went  through  the  large  central  room,  past  the 
grave  of  the  old  Mohammedan  whose  spirit  must  have 
revolted  at  the  sound  of  the  hymn, 

"  There  is  no  name  so  <\vooi  on  earth, 
Xo  name  so  dear  in  heaven," 

sung  in  his  own  language  and  floating  about  and  above 
his  grave,  but  it  was  fitting  and  right,  and  thus  will  it 
be  until  time  is  no  more  ;  the  hymns  of  the  true  must 
ever  float  above  the  graves  of  the  false. 

The  women  in  plain  dark  skirts  and  white  chuddars 
rose  and  salaamed  and  sat  down  again  on  the  floor, 
with  smiling  faces,  for  they  were  pleased  that  this 
the  M'ife  of  the  great  Sahib  from  that  great  vague 
land  across  the  great  misty  water  should  come  so  soon 
to  see  them. 

They  had  heard  of  her  from  Pulmoni,  who  had  rep 
resented  her  as  sweet  and  pleasant  in  her  disposition 
and  of  infinite  charity.  This  they  could  easily  be 
lieve,  for  was  she  not  small  and  thin  ?  and  for  what  else 
but  a  pleasant  disposition  would  so  great  and  power 
ful  a  Sahib  have  allowed  her  to  have  the  honor  of 
being  his  wife  ? 

"Some  of  the  women  speak  a  little  English  and 
understand  more  than  they  can  speak,"  said  Miss 
Whitlow,  in  warning.  "  You  observe  Pulmoni  is  smil 
ing,  and  for  the  first  time.  Her  heart  seems  bowed 
down  with  sorrow.  I  must  say  you  are  beginning 


\'2*>  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

your  mission  work  quickly  and  well.     Where  did  yon 

find  her  ? " 

'•  O,  I  deserve  no  credit  for  finding  her.  Just  be 
fore  dark  last  night  she  came  in  at  the  door  and  stood 
before  me  with  her  baby  in  her  arms.  I  looked  at 
her  closely,  for  her  face  expressed  the  most  hopeless 
woe  I  have  ever  seen  on  any  human  being.  As  I  said 
nothing  she  sat  down  at  my  fe:>t  and  touched  them 
with  her  forehead.  My  heart  ached  for  her,  and  as  I 
could  not  speak  to  her  I  put  my  arms  around  her. 
Perhaps  it  was  not  wise,  but  I  could  not  help  it,  and 
she  sat  quite  quiet,  as  though  at  rest.  I  called  the 
cook  and  told  him  to  go  and  ask  Mr.  Carnton  to  come 
ai.d  see  what  she  wanted  me  to  do  for  her,  for  it  was 
plain  she  expected  something,  and  I  knew  she  was  not 
a  beggar.  He  came  and  questioned  her,  and  though 
she  turned  her  back  toward  him  and  stood  trembling 
with  her  face  covered  with  her  chuddar,  yet  she  an 
swered,  he  said,  very  straightforwardly,  that  a  pundit 
had  told  some  people  when  they  were  sitting  at  the 
village  well  in  Paripur  of  a  strange  people  who  were 
called  Christians,  of  how  they  preached  a  salvation  for 
women  as  well  as  men,  and  how  they  were  kind  and 
helpful  to  all.  He  was  not  telling  her — she  was  a 
widow,  and  beneath  any  one's  notice — but  she  was  in 
the  clump  of  bananas  behind  the  well  and  heard,  and 
then  she  rose  early  in  the  morning  and  came  all 
the  way,  twenty-five  miles,  I  think.  I  said  at  once 
that  she  must  be  sent  to  you,  and  I  would  be  respon 
sible  for  her  support  if  you  had  no  other  means." 

"She  told  me  a  little  more,  which  I  will  tell  you 
later,"  said  Miss  Whitlow. 

After  a  Bible  lesson  from  the  Hindoostanee  translu- 


YlSlTIXU    MlSSIONAKIES.  127 

tion,  and  a  prayer  in  the  same  language,  in  which  the 
women  nearly  all  joined,  they  began  their  lessons. 

"  Some  of  these  women  are  low  caste  and  some  are 
high  caste,  l>nt  nearly  all  were  utterly  without  educa 
tion  when  they  came,  not  being  able  to  read  or  write 
one  wonl ;  u:;d  yet  now  several  of  them  can  read  and 
write  three  languages,  taking  them  all  along  at  once 
and  without  the  least  difficulty." 

"  And  yet  they  do  r.ot  look  so  very  clever  or  bright ; 
1  can  hardly  credit  what  you  say." 

"Of  course  it  is  not  true  of  all.  Some  are  dull  and 
do  not  interest  themselves  in  their  lessons;  these  I 
train  for  ayahs  or  nurses.  Several  of  these  latter  are 
now  in  good  places  and  putting  aside  money  for  their 
old  age"  or  for  their  marriage,  who  were  perfectly 
without  resource  except  the  very  last  and  worst  a 
woman  can  have." 

"But  why  should  such  women  learn  more  than  one 
language  ?  It  does  not  seem  necessary." 

o        o  «/ 

"  Then  things  are  not  as  they  seem  in  this  case,  as 
in  many  others.  They  are  preparing  to  be  Bible 
women,  and  to  make  efficient  ones  they  must  be  ready 
to  read  the  Bible  and  explain  it  in  Hindi  and  Urdu  or 
Bengalee.  The  population  is  so  mixed  that  we  never 
know  "what  language  we  will  need  in  the  zenanas.  Of 
their  own  accord  they  try  to  pick  up  English — why 
I  hardly  know,  unless  it  is  because  they  wish  in  every 
thing  to  be  like  us." 

"Then  I  suppose  they  would  not  mind  sitting  on 
chairs.  Certainly  that  would  be  the  first  thing  I  would 
teach  them.  Civilize  them  first,  and  I  am  sure  you 
could  Christianize  them  much  more  quickly." 

"Ah,"  said  Miss  Whitlow,  with  a  sigh,  "you  have 


128  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

struck  tho  edge  of  one  of  onr  most  difficult  prob 
lems.  If  you  will  come  out  here  in  the  shade  of 
this  tamarind  tree,"  she  said,  bringing  a  chair,  and 
then  going  back  for  another  one,  "I  will  explain  my 
meaning.*' 

They  were  facing  the  women,  and  could  see  some 
busy  with  slates  and  pencils  writing  out  translations  ; 
others  learning  letters,  swaying  back  and  forth  and 
repeating  them  in  a  drowsy  monotone,  and  still  others 
knitting  or  sewing.  The  hum  of  bees  in  the  yellow 
balls  of  the  babul  tree  at  the  side  of  the  house  added 
to  the  women's  voices,  the  little  children  rolling  about 
on  the  ground  in  the  sun,  laughing  merrily,  the  men 
in  the  street  outside  the  high  wall  calling  out  the 
prices  of  fruit  and  vegetables  in  the  baskets  on  their 
heads,  now  and  then  camels  or  elephants  passing  in 
processions,  the  mosque  at  the  corner,  the  various 
domes  and  the  flat  roofs  of  the  whitewashed  houses 
which  reflected  the  sun  in  a  blaze,  and  the  peacock's 
shriek  mingled  with  the  street  cries — all  told  Mrs. 
Clinton  of  a  different  life  from  any  she  had  ever  known. 
How  entirely  different  she  could  not  comprehend,  for 
even  those  who  live  years  in  it,  until  they  too  become 
a  part  of  the  strangeness,  often  see  only  the  surface, 
and  none  save  those  with  the  second  sight  given  to 
people  who  love  humanity  a.i  Christ  loved  it  ever  see 
below  the  surface,  and  none  to  the  bottom.  It  is  not 
given  to  the  "Western  nature  to  comprehend  the  Orien 
tal.  Xone  can  do  it  save  and  except  the  Oriental 
himself,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  even  he  ever  com 
prehends  his  own  life. 

"  This  is  not  America,"  Mrs.  Clinton  said  half  to 
herself,  "  though  it  is  not  exactly  the  India  I  expected 


VISITINU  MISSICXNAKIBS.  129 

to  sec.     1  have  said  this  before  to  Mrs.  Mackenzie, 

and  I  say  it  to  myself  every  hour  of  the  day." 

"  The  India  we  expected  to  see  exists  only  in  Amer 
ica,"  said  Miss  Whitlow.  "Before  I  came  to  India  I 
used  to  wonder  at  Moore's  genius  in  writing  '  Lalla 
Rookh  '  without  ever  having  been  here,  but 


think  his  genius  would  have  been  greater  had  he  writ 
ten  it  after  beino;  here." 

O 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed. 

"You  evidently  do  not  take  a  romantic  view  of 
India." 

"Xo;  though  still  there  is  a  strongly  picturesque 
side  to  it,  even  if  it  is  not  all  marble  fountains  and 
poetry  and  soft,  low  music.  All  our  civilization  de 
tracts  from  the  picturesque  in  their  life.  The  English 
dress  and  the  English  manner  do  not  mix  with  those 
of  India  any  better  than  oil  and  water.  But  what 
was  I  going  to  talk  to  you  about  ?  O,  yes,  Pulinoni's 
story  and  the  question  of  chairs. 

""When  she  came  last  night  she  said  her  husband 
had  died  and  left  her  to  the  care  of  his  brother,  but 
M'ith  no  separate  provision  for  her  support.  She  had 
lived  on  in  the  house  as  a  slave,  bereft  of  her  fe\v  iine 
clothes  and  her  few  jewels.  Her  two  children,  both 
girls,  had  married  some  distant  cousins  and  had  gone 
far  away  into  the  Punjab.  Eight  years  had  pa»ed. 
and  in  all  the  household  only  one  was  kind  to  her  and 
that  was  her  husband's  brother.  I  need  not  tell  you 
the  result  of  that  kindness  in  her  sad  and  lonely  life. 
When  she  had  to  tell  her  mother-in-law  and  her  sister- 
in-law  thej7  demanded  that  she  should  kill  the  child 
about  to  be  born,  and  thus  the  family  shame  woulu 
not  be  known  ;  but  she  refused,  even  though  they 


130  THE  BISHOP'S  CO.NVKK-IOX. 

talked  to  her  in  a  way  that  in  her  own  words  'killed 
her.'  Then  they  beat  her  cruelly,  but  still  she  refused 
to  either  commit  murder  or  allow  it  to  bo  committed. 
Then  they  turned  her  out  and  told  her  they  would 
beat  her  to  death  if  she  ever  came  back.  She  wan 
dered  away  from  village  to  village,  until  a  not  entirely 
hard-hearted  woman  took  her  in  for  a  day  or  two  un 
til  her  child  was  born,  and  then,  while  she  was  still 
M*eak,  told  her  to  ^o  on.  '  She  had  lowered  her  head 

*  o 

and  now  she  must  take  the  consequences.1  Soon  she 
went,  getting  a  little  food,  now  and  then  by  begging, 
until  one  day  she  heard  the  pundit  at  the  well  tell 
of  the  Christian's  God,  who,  he  said,  forgave  the  worst 
of  sins,  even  of  women,  and  she  believed  it  all,  though 
the  pundit  said  he  did  not  believe  it  and  it  could  not 
be  true  ;  that  women  were  not  made  for  heaven,  and 
very  few  even  of  the  best  would  ever  have  a  place 
there  ;  and  so  she  came,  as  she  felt  it  was  true.  She  is 
bright,  and  I  think  will  turn  out  well,  and  you  will  not 
be  sorry  you  sent  her." 

"It  is  a  pitiful  story,''  Mrs.  Clinton  said,  with  tears 
i:i  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  it  is,  and,  sadder  still,  it  is  not  an  uncommon 
story.  Xow  about  the  question  of  chairs.'' 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  ''I  really  think  the 
'ladies  at  home'  would  regret  very  much  to  hear  that 
you  did  not  insist  on  the  women  sifting  in  chairs. 
Surely  it  would  increase  their  self-respect." 

"I  have  not  the  least  doubt  in  the  world  of  the 
truth  of  both  of  your  assertions.  As  to  the  latter,  1 
rind  the  self-respect  of  the  women  increases  in  a  ratio 
that  I  find  impossible  to  keep  up  with,  as  far  as  new 
wants  and  new  habits  and  new  things  altogether  go. 


VISITING  MISSIONARIES.  131 

That  is  the  very  point.  I  was  one  of  the  'ladies  at 
home'  myself  and  held  very  decided  opinions  in  re 
gard  to  all  these  things,  but  my  opinion  IKIS  changed 
with  the  change  in  my  point  of  view." 

"That  is  to  be  expected;  but  \vhat  possible  objec 
tion  can  there  be  to  chairs?  Surely  no  moral  prin 
ciple  is  involved.'' 

"  As  much  as  eating  with  knives  and  forks  off  of 
plates,  instead  of  eating  out  of  the  degchi,  and  wear 
ing  hats  like  ours,  or  coats  like  the  sahibs,  or  col 
lars  and  cnffs.  All  these  and  a  hundred  other  things 
d'»  not  seem  to  have  a  moral  bearing;  yet  if  a  native 
Christian  cannot  afford  to  buy  all  these  things,  and 
he  and  his  family  are  unhappy  because  they  cannot 
have  them,  or  led  to  give  up  work  in  the  mission 
where  he  is  needed  in  order  that  he  may  get  larger 
wages  and  supply  himself  with  luxuries — for  they  are 
to  him  neither  more  nor  less  than  luxuries — then  the 
whole  thing  has  a  moral  phase." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  decided  answer  ;  u  it  is  true,  but  it 
is  a  novel  light  in  which  to  regard  chairs  and  knives 
and  forks." 

••  Now  some  of  these  women  here  will,"  Miss  AVliit- 
low  went  on,  "  marry  Christian  men  who  earn  four  or 
live  dollars  a  month,  or  even  less.  If  they  get  accus- 
< i>med  to  chairs  and  knives  and  forks  and  clothes  such 
as  we  wear  they  will  never  be  so  liappy  as  they  would 
without  them.  If  they  can  provide  themselves  hon 
estly  with  the  first  luxuries  they  have  habitually  it. 
will  put  a  different  light  on  the  whole  matter.  As 
to  women  copying  our  dress,  it  has  still  another  moral 
bearing.  Their  chuddars  are  a  shelter  and  protection 
to  them,  and  they  are  not  prepared  to  give  them  ti|> 


132  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

and  go  about  without  them.  They  would  lose  their 
modesty  and  seem  to  us  more  or  less  bold.  Laying- 
it  aside  to  them  is  what  laying  aside  our  bonnets 
v  or  hats  and  even  part  of  our  dress  would  be  to  us; 
it  would  be  unnatural,  and  therefore  would  do  us 
harm,  as  also  giving  up  their  chuddars  would  be  un 
natural  to  them  and  do  them  harm  ;  and  besides, 
anyone  with  artistic  feeling  could  hardly  wish  them 
to  do  so,  for,  so  far  as  actual  beauty  goes,  their  dress 
far  exceeds  ours." 

"  I  agree  with  you  perfectly  as  to  that ;  I  never 
knew  how  ugly  our  dress  is  until  I  saw  theirs.  But  I 
must  hurry  home  to  breakfast" — looking  at  her  watch; 
"  I  shall  be  late  as  it  is." 

•'  Fancy  putting  a  hat  on  this  child,  and  see  what  a 
guy  it  would  make  her,  compared  to  what  she  is. 
Come  here,  Sitara,"  she  said  as  a  pretty  little  girl- 
woman  came  out  of  the  house  wrapped  from  head  to 
foot  in  a  soft  scarlet  sari  with  gold-colored  border, 
and  carrying  a  shining  brass  lota  in  her  hand  from 
which  the  rays  of  the  sun  were  reflected  in  sharp  lines 
to  their  eyes.  She  came  shy  and  trembling  and  put  a 
little  hand  in  Mrs.  Clinton's  and  looked  up  with  half- 
merry  curiosity  in  her  large  dark  eyes,  made  more 
brilliant  by  the  scarlet  and  gold  about  her  face.  Dim 
ples  and  white  teeth  showed  quickly  in  answer  to  the 
smile  Mrs.  Clinton  gave  her,  and  when  she  put  her 
arms  around  her  the  child  nestled  in  them  with  ready 
love. 

"You  darling! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Clinton,  kissing  her. 

Sitara  looked  and  felt  happy.  She  knew  at  once 
without  an  intelligible  word  that  the  great  Mem 
Sahib  was  truly  pleased  with  her. 


VISITING  MISSIONARIES.  133 

"  Sitara  has  been  a  brave  and  a  good  girl,  and  she 
has  a  good  husband." 

"This  child  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Clinton. 

Miss  Whitlow  said  something  to  the  a'irl  in  Hindoo- 

o  o 

stance,  and  she  gently,  with  a  look  full  of  love,  lifted 
her  hand  to  her  forehead  and  bowed  to  each  of  the 
ladies  and  glided  quietly  away  toward  the  schoolroom. 

"It  is  an  interesting  story,  this  of  Sitara  and  her 
husband,  and  if  yon  come  early  to  the  station  meeting 
to-morrow  night  I  will  tell  yon  all  about  her.  I  assure 
you  she  is  not  uncommonly  young  for  a  wife." 

As  she  got  into  the  gari  Mrs.  Clinton  felt  a  giddy 
sensation  and  nearly  fell. 

"AVhat  is  coming  to  me?"  she  said  to  herself,  half 
alarmed ;  "this  constant  confusion  of  head  and  this  dis 
agreeable  sensation  of  not  being  sure  of  keeping  my 
feet!  I  wonder  if  it  is  anything  that  I  have  eaten." 

At  the  breakfast  table  she  spoke  of  it,  and  the  Bishop 
confessed  to  the  same  sensation,  varied  by  a  constant 
and  intense  dull  ache  at  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  be 
fore  they  had  finished  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  his 
room  and  lie  down.  Then  followed  a  bad  hour  or 
two  of  sharp  pain  in  his  head  and  vomiting.  He  was 
not  able  to  get  up  for  lunch,  but  his  wife  told  Carnton 
he  was  much  better.  Had  he  not  been  better  she 
would  have  sent  for  a  doctor. 

"He  has  just  escaped  sunstroke,"  said  Carnton, 
after  she  had  detailed  the  symptoms  of  his  attack," 
and  you  will  be  obliged  to  do  as  we  do,  wear  ugly- 
sola  topis,  or  have  still  worse  trouble. 

"But  the  sun  is  not  uncomfortably  hot,"  argued 
she  ;  "in  fact,  it  is  only  comfortably  warm.  How  can 
it  hurt  us  2 " 


134  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  I  do  not  know  how,  but  I  know  that  it  does,  and 
there  is  no  possible  way  of  acclimatization  for  ns.  1 
tried  it  and  was  ill.  Most  of  us  like  to  try  it  for  our 
selves,  but  in  the  case  of  !Nilton,  of  Agra,  he  carried 
his  experiment  too  far,  and  died  in  the  prime  of  his 
life  from  sunstroke." 

Carnton  said  no  more,  but  he  observed  that  three 
sola  topis  appeared  in  the  house  the  next  day,  and  there 
after  there  was  no  complaint  of  headache  and  giddi 
ness. 

And  that  was  the  first  bit  of  experience  that  cost 
them  something,  but  not  the  last. 


MAKIXG  CALLS.  ]..">."> 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

MAKING  CALLS. 

THE  government  of  India  is  a  vague,  illusory  thing 
in  the  minds  of  the  masses  of  the  Indian  people. 
There  is  a  shadowy  superstition  of  a  sort  of  fairyland 
where  the  head  fairy  is  an  indefinite  Bnri  Rani,  called 
Victoria,  who  is  something  after  the  style  of  Lachmi, 
their  own  goddess  of  plenty,  who  sits  aloft  in  the 
clouds  on  a  lotus  flower  and  regards  the  sufferings  of 
the-  world  with  uninterrupted  placidity. 

They  have  an  unlimited  idea  of  the  great  sea,  and 
the  fact  that  the  empress  lives  beyond  it  separates 
her  from  them  as  completely  as  though  she  were  in 
heaven. 

The  Lord  Sahib,  or  the  Viceroy,  comes  a  little 
nearer.  They  have  a  consciousness  of  him  when  their 
especial  "talukdar"  raises  their  taxes  to  supply  en 
tertainments  and  fetes  a  la,  Arabian  Xights  for  him 
when  he  is  on  his  annual  visit.  But  the  only  real 
governmental  providence  they  comprehend  is  the 
lieutenant-governor  of  the  particular  province  or  pres 
idency  in  which  they  live,  who  lias  his  court  on  the 
plains  in  the  cold  season,  and  in  the  mountains  in  the 
hot  season,  and  swings  pendulum-like  between  his  two 
or  three  governmental  seats. 

All  who  are  received  by  him  and  his  family  at 
Government  House  are  respectable  and  "  in  society," 


136  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

sven  if  not  "of  society ;''  and  the  first  duty  of  every 
self-respecting  European  not  in  trade,  on  arriving  at 
a  place  where  there  is  a  government  house,  is  to  pre 
sent  himself  in  all  that  is  correct  in  clothes  and 
cards  and  smiles,  and  have  the  invisible  label  and 
stamp  put  on  him,  which  will  make  it  safe  for  seedy 
colonels,  reJ-faced  majors,  and  bankrupt  lieutenants 
to  return  his  bow  or  receive  an  apology  for  being 
thrown  against  him  in  a  raihvay  collision.  This  is 
an  advantage  to  the  missionary  in  many  \vays.  Tie 
needs  government  backing  and  he  gets  it,  for  tho 
government,  wise  in  its  generation,  sees  that  the  mis 
sionary  is  not  only  law-abiding  himself,  but  that 
he  makes  law-abiding  citizens  of  his  converts ;  that 
his  schools  and  homes  and  churches  do  what  no 
other  power,  however  strong,  can  do  ;  and  grants 
of  land  and  -  money  are  given  freely  when  well- 
known  and  long-standing  missions  ask  for  them.  So 
calling  at  Government  House  is  encouraged — that  is, 
missionaries  encourage  each  other  to  call,  but  it  is  only 
the  obliging  new  ones  that  really  go,  and  jnst  as  they 
are  starting  they  find  they  are  asked  to  register  the 
names  of  all  the  other  missionaries  of  the  place  in  tho 
visitors'  book,  which  takes  the  place  of  a  call ;  they 
also  find  that  the  normal  missionary  hates  calling  at 
Government  House,  and  all  other  merely  conventional 
calls,  as  badly  as  merely  conventional  people  hate  to 
see  him  coming. 

Ca niton,  on  being  told  it  was  his  duty  to  call, 
begged  Mrs.  Clinton  to  go  with  him,  and  she  acquiesced, 
as  she  had  been  told  it  was  her  duty  to  do  so.  They 
drove  in  through  a  rather  imposing  entrance,  beyond 
which  passers-by  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  smooth- 


MAKING  CALLS.  137 

shaven  green  lawns,  of  well-grouped  trees,  and  through 
tlieir  openings  gleaming  pillars,  hits  of  verandas,  and 
scarlet  and  gold-liveried  servants. 

One  of  these  latter,  salaaming  low,  ushered  them 
into  a  magnificent  room  at  the  end  of  which  were 
two  young  ladies,  the  nieces  of  the  lieutenant-gov 
ernor,  Sir  Mayland  Wild. 

"They  are  pretty  and  well  dressed,  for  English 
women,"  thought  Mrs.  Clinton,  with  the  impulse  of 
natural  antipathy  fostered  by  many  Fourths  of  July. 
They  received  the  missionaries  with  respect,  first, 
because  the  word  Bishop  on  Mrs.  Clinton's  husband's 
card,  which  she  had  brought  in  lien  of  being  able  to 
persuade  him  to  accompany  her,  had  caught  their  eyes, 
and  Can  i  ton  carried  his  own  welcome  with  him  in  his 
fine  figure  and  handsome  face  and  an  unconscious  air 
of  being  perfectly  at  home  and  at  ease  in  any  circum 
stances. 

Then,  too,  the  words  "  American  Mission  "  on  Carn- 
ton's  card  had  given  them  a  hint  of  something  in 
teresting,  and  they  had  visibly  brightened,  for  they 
were  tired  and  bored.  It  was,  of  course,  their  regu 
lar  receiving  day,  and  shoals  of  women  had  come  and 
gone  ;  senior  subalterns' wives,  many  ;  captains' wives, 
some;  colonels'  wives,  a  few;  but  not  only  not  one 
person  of  distinction,  but,  what  was  worse  to  them, 
no  interesting  men.  Lady  Huff  and  Lady  Puff  would 
not  kotow  to  girls  who  were  officially  at  the  head  of 
society  only  from  the  accident  of  tlieir  uncle  being  a 
bachelor  or  widower,  one  or  the  other,  or  both.  So 
ciety  did  not  seem  quite  sure  under  which  category  he 
came,  and  it  is  possible  that  he  himself  was  not  sure. 
So  altogether  the  young  ladies  had  not  had  so  satis- 


138  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

factory  a  day  as  might  liave  been  expected.  A  bish 
op's  Avife  was  not  to  be  despised,  and  one,  the  eld 
est,  looking  at  Caniton  as  lie  advanced,  said  under 
her  breath : 

"  Ah,  if  I  could  only  tame  him  !  What  a  handsome 
'bow-wow*  he  would  make,  even  if  he  is  a  mission- 
anv> 

And  the  other  thought,  with  a  flush  on  her  fair 
face : 

"I  will  find  out  about  these  horrid  American 
girls,  if  he  can  talk  of  anything  but  converting  the 
heathen." 

Carnton  fell  to  her  share. 

"  Yon  belong  to  the  American  Mission  ;  I  suppose 
you  are  very  enthusiastic  in  regard  to  the  natives?  " 

The  one  trace  of  the  world  that  lingered  around 
Carnton  was  his  manner  to  women  ;  not  of  the  wicked 
world,  but  essentially  of  the  world — half-deferential, 
half-amused,  as  though  talking  to  pretty  children,  and 
wholly  fascinating,  though  unconsciously  so. 

He  smiled,  bending  a  little  toward  her. 

"  That  depends  somewhat  on  what  you  mean  by 
enthusiasm  ;  and  may  I  ask  why  it  is  a  foregone  con 
clusion  that  I  am  enthusiastic  ?  " 

Her  face  lighted — she  was  not  going  to  be  bored, 
for  at  any  rate  he  could  talk. 

"For  two  reasons:  missionaries  are  always — not 
fanatical,  but  very  excitable  and  hopeful,  and  Ameri 
cans  are  always  enthusiastic.  You  know  Colonel 
Sellers  in  Mark  Twain's  book;  he  is  a  typical  Ameri 
can." 

"Really  !  "  answered  Carnton,  with  a  gentle  look  of 
derision.  "•/  had  not  thought  Colonel  Sellers  a  typi- 


MAKIX«  CALLS.  139 

cal  American.  It  is  rather  difficult  to  say  exactlv 
what  a  typical  American  is.  In  fact,  the  only  one  I 
ever  thought  to  be  so  proved  to  be  an  Englishman 
born  and  bred.  But  if  as  a  missionary  I  were  con 
victed  of  enthusiasm,  it  would  mean —  '  and  he 
stopped  with  a  gleam  of  amusement  in  his  eyes  that 
gave  her  an  unaccountable  feeling  of  shyness. 

"  O,  it  would  mean  that  you  were  sure  of  converting 
all  the  natives  very  soon,  and  that  they  were  to  be  in 
stantly  respectable,  truth-telling  people.  But  I  assure 
you  frankly  it  cannot  be  done  ;  it  is  wasted  time  and 
strength." 

"Why?" 

''My  uncle,  who  favors  missions,  had  a  chaprassi 
who  said  he  was  a  Christian,  and  he  stole  a  lot  of 
money — hundreds  of  rupees — and  fled,  and  we  have 
never  seen  him  since.  I  am  perfectly  sure  that  they 
are  naturally  dishonest  and  nothing  will  cure  them." 

"  Such  a  strange  thing  as  a  dishonest  servant  is,  I 
suppose,  never  known  in  England  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  plenty  of  them." 

"  But  I  suppose  they  were  not  professed  Christians." 

"  All  we  ever  had  were,  for  mother  would  have 
none  other." 

"  And  yet  you  did  not  think  there  was  no  Chris 
tianity  in  England  because  one  of  your  servants  was 
not  honest." 

"  True  enough,"  frankly  and  with  a  slight  confu 
sion  ;  "  I  had  not  looked  at  it  in  that  way.  But  I  want 
to  ask  you  a  question — about  American  girls.  What  is 
it  that  makes  them  so  fascinating  ?  Are  they  so  much 
prettier  than  English  girls?"  she  asked,  earnestly. 

"I  really  cannot  say;  I  have  seen,  so  few  English 


140  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

girls.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Clinton  can  tell  us,"  noticing 
that  the  other  Miss  Wild  had  stopped  talking  in  order 
to  listen. 

Turning  to  Mrs.  Clinton  she  repeated  her  question. 
The  fair  face  was  flushed  and  eager,  and  Mrs.  Clin 
ton,  looking  at  her,  said,  gently  : 

"  I  do  not  really  see  how  they  can  be  prettier  than 
some  English  girls  I  have  seen/' 

The  questioner  drew  back  a  little,  and  said,  with  a 
conscious  increase  of  color  : 

"  What  is  it  then  ?  In  London  the  best  men  run 
after  them  and  forget  others.  Every  place  they  go 
to  they  are  surrounded  by  men,  and  we  sit  about  and 
look  on." 

"Perhaps  it  may  be  their  dollars,"  said  Carnton, 
lightly  ;  "  I  have  heard  that  given  as  the  reason." 

"  No  ;  this  girl  was  poor — ah — "  catching  herself, 
"  I  mean  I  saw  one  girl  who  was  known  to  be  poor, 
and  she  was  not  prettier  than — than  many  girls  there, 
and  yet  men  one  did  not  expect  it  of  left  others  to 
talk  to  her  the  whole  evening." 

Surely  there  was  more  than  personal  pique  in  this. 
"Men  one  did  not  expect  it  of"  meant  one  particular 
man  that  she  had  not  expected  it  of.  There  was  no 
answer,  and  she  went  on  : 

"And  she  did  not  seem  to  care  one  bit  for  them, 
and  liked  to  talk  to  women  just  as  well,  and  the 
strange  part  of  it  all  was  that  we  all  liked  her." 

"  I  think,"  said  Carnton,  gravely,  rising  as  Mrs. 
Clinton  rose  to  take  her  leave,  "I  think  you  have  ex 
plained  the  reason  in  your  last  remark  better  than  we 
could;"  and  they  were  soon  out  in  the  open  air,  leav- 
'ng  the  perplexed  questioner  to  ponder. 


MAKING  CALLS.  141 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed  a  little  as  she  said  : 

"1  was  interviewed  as  well  as  you  on  Americans. 
The  elder  sister  told  me  she  was  surprised  to  find  us 
using  good  English,  and  that  this  girl  in  London,  of 
whom  her  sister  was  speaking,  also  used  good  English  ; 
but  when  she  mentioned  it  to  her,  and  told  her  that 
she  did  not  talk  a  hit  like  Mark  Twain  or  Artemus 
Ward,  the  girl  had  said  that  she  could  really  take  no 
credit  to  herself,  for  an  English  missionary  had 
lived  near  her  father's  hut,  and  she  had  learned  from 
him.  When  I  smiled  and  said,  '  Indeed  ! '  she  went 
on  to  say  that  when  she  explained  it  to  her  Cousin 
Jack,  who  had  been  in  America  and  seen  her  father's 
'hut'  on  Fifth  Avenue,  in  New  York,  he  rolled  on 
the  floor  and  laughed,  and  said  she  was  chaffing  me. 
She  said  'chawfing.'  r 

Carnton  laughed. 

"That  is  really  good  ;  in  fact,  it  goes  beyond  any 
thing  in  my  experience,  though  I  have  been  asked 
funny  questions  without  number.  Colonel  Jones 
told  me  plainly  that  we  had  no  writers  or  books  in 
America,  and  when  I  timidly  mentioned  Irving  as 
being  used  for  the  standard  English  in  the  schools  of 
India,  and  Emerson,  whom  I  knew  he  read,  and  Long 
fellow,  whom  everybody  reads,  he  declared  indig 
nantly  that  they  were  English,  and  it  was  absurd  for 
Americans  to  claim  them.  I  said  nothing  whatever, 
as  I  felt  I  was  not  adequate  to  the  occasion.  But  of 
course  such  men  as  he  are  no  more  representative 
Englishmen  than  Colonel  Sellers  is  a  representative 
American." 

They  were  MOW  driving  in  at  the  entrance  of  a 
zenana  mission. 


142  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Yesterday  we  were  visiting  missionaries  in  a 
tomb,  and  to-day  we  find  them  in  a  palace." 

"  Really  that  sounds  very  much  like  '  From  the  Log- 
cabin  to  the  "White  House.'  Whom,  I  beg  of  you, 
shall  we  find  in  the  palace  ? " 

"Miss  Mellen,  though  every  one  calls  her  'Sidney,' 
the  zenana  missionary  of  the  other  society,  and  her 
assistants.  She  lives  in  this  old  palace  which  was 
given  to  their  mission,  and  was  built  by  one  of  the  old 
Lings  of  Oude  for  his  vazir,  or  prime  minister.  But 
how  is  this,  that  /  am  giving  you  information  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  have  heard  often  of  them,  but  I  have 
never  seen  them.  I  have  been  too  busy,  and  when  in 
Lucknow  for  a  few  days  I  have  always  had  mission 
work  on  hand.  "Where  have  you  seen  them  ?  " 

"  Miss  Mellen  was  calling  on  Mrs.  Mackenzie  the 
first  da}7  we  were  here,  and  she  is  simply  lovely.  But  I 
thought  she  cared  too  much  for  the  fit  of  her  dresses 
and  is  too  pretty  to  be  a  good  missionary." 

"  Well,"  said  Carnton,  laughing,  "  you  surely  cannot 
say  that  of  Miss — some  of  the  other  missionaries," 
catching  himself  before  he  had  uttered  a  name. 

"Hardly,"  was  the  answer. 

The  gateway  through  which  they  came,  like  most 
gateways  in  India,  had  no  gate,  but  was  only  an  en 
trance  to  a  large  compound  filled  with  shrubs,  clumps 
of  roses,  and  pots  of  ferns  and  palms,  beyond  which 
the  old  palace  loomed,  so  big  and  so  irregular  that, 
looking  up,  when  fairly  before  it,  they  could  only  see 
one  part  of  it.  There  was  a  veranda,  below  and  above 
this  an  open  terrace,  and  from  this  came  the  sound  of 
Bundling  native  shoes,  and  an  ayah  looked  down  over 
the  railing  and  disappeared.  Then  a  bearer  came  with 


MAKING  CALLS.  113 

a  salaam,  and  "Miss  Sahib  hai,"  and  taking  their  cards 
disappeared.  They  followed,  as  the  word  salaam  in 
dicated  that  they  would  be  received. 

They  went  up  a  short  flight  of  stairs,  a  turn,  up  a 
long  flight,  across  a  landing,  across  a  terrace,  and  into 
a  plainly  furnished  sitting  room.  Here  were  the  same 
Saracenic  arches  that  so  often  in  Lucknow  stirred 
Mrs.  Clinton's  {esthetic  sensibilities.  There  were 
various  devices  to  shut  off  the  draughts  caused  by 
these  same  arches,  but  nothing  ornamental,  nothing 
but  rude  screens  and  plain  chairs. 

Mrs.  Clinton  said,  with  a  mock  sigh,  to  Carnton  : 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  be  a  missionary  to  the  mis 
sionaries  and  live  to  drape  their  houses  and  make  them 
pretty ;  "to  remodel  their  bonnets  and  make  them  re 
spectable  ;  to  show  them  that  they  have  no  right  to 
deprive  themselves  of  the  help  a  little  beauty  would  be 
to  them,  and  live  as  they  do  on  the  plain  bare  facts." 

"But  this  would  hardly  agree  with  your  avowed 
purpose  in  India.  How  is  this  2 " 

Mrs.  Clinton  laughed  and  was  about  to  reply,  when 
Miss  Mellen  and  Miss  Harris  came  in.  After  twenty 
minutes  passed  they  were  out  again  in  the  carriage. 
Carnton  was  silent.  With  her  usual  instinct  of  pene 
tration  Mrs.  Clinton  felt  that  Carnton  was  not  the 
same  man  that  had  gone  in  with  her.  There  was  a 
change,  subtle  and  undefined,  a  something  gained  or 
a  something  lost;  and  she  reviewed  the  twenty  min 
utes  spent  in  the  shabby  room. 

Both  ladies  were  in  plain  working-dresses,  as  they 
had  just  come  in  from  the  zenanas,  and  had  that 
wearied  look  that  is  on  the  faces  of  those  who  have 
worked  hard  but  happily,  which  is  entirely  different 


144  THE  BISHOP'S  CON  VERSION. 

from  the  weariness  of  boredom,  or  weariness  coming 
from  uncongenial  burdens. 

Miss  Harris  looked  as  tidy  as  when  she  hud  gone 
out  in  the  morning,  but  Miss  Mellen's  hair  hung  in 
little  brown  rings  and  curls  about  her  forehead,  and  the 
large  braid  that  crowned  her  head  was  decidedly  tum 
bled.  Her  cheeks,  naturally  a  wild-rose  red,  were 
deepened  by  the  sun  into  almost  a  purplish  tint,  and 
her  mouth  drooped  wearily.  Carnton  had  sat  in  a 
seat  near  her,  and  they  had  talked.  What  of?  Mrs. 
Clinton  did  not  know;  she  was  engaged  with  Miss 
Harris,  who  was  telling  her  of  a  disappointment  in 
her  work.  A  Mohammedan's  wife  and  daughter  had 
been  about  to  become  Christians  with  his  consent, 
when  suddenly  he  had  removed  them  out  of  the  city 
and  she  could  find  no  trace  of  them.  While  she  was 
listening  to  this  story  she  had  still  seen  that  the  other 
two  were  absorbed  in  each  other. 

She  was  not  romantic,  but  she  knew  some  things, 
and  she  wondered  if  she  had  been  seeing  the  very  be 
ginning  of  a  love  story.  She  felt  awed  by  the  thought. 
Love  was  not  a  trifle  to  her;  not  something  to  be 
treated  with  amusement  or  in  any  way  lightly.  It 
involved  too  much  ;  it  was  too  great,  too  terrible  to  be 
regarded  otherwise  than  solemnly  and  sacredly.  So 
she  sat  silent,  and  the  driver  whipped  his  thin  little 
ponies,  and  the  wind  blew  the  dust  all  about  them  as 
they  drove  around  corners,  and  went  down  narrow 
streets.  Finallj  Carnton  said  : 

"What  do  you  say  to  our  going  home,  and  leaving 
the  other  mission  houses  for  another  day  ?" 

Mrs.  Clinton  assented,  nearly  convinced  that  some 
thing  serious  had  happened. 


THE  STORY  OF  SITARA.  145 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  STORY  OF  S1TARA. 

QITAEA  and  her  Imslwnd,  Shew Pershad,  had  lived 
O  in  separate  villages  until  their  marriage,  and  then 
she  came  to  live  in  the  same  house  in  which  he  had 
always  lived  and  was  his  little  playmate  and  his  moth 
er's  assistant  in  preparing  the  food  for  their  simple 
meals. 

They  had  been  married  a  year  or  two  when  it  first 
dawned  on  Shew  Pershad  that  there  was  a  great  world 
worth  seeing  and  knowing,  and  that  they,  in  the  se- 
clnded  little  village,  were  ignorant  and  simple  com 
pared  with  others  who  traveled  on  railways,  worked 
in  offices,  arid  studied  the  language  of  the  sahibs  who 
ruled  the  country. 

True,  there  was  a  little  school  in  the  village,  but  he 
had  already  learned  all  that  was  taught  there,  and  had 
been  looked  up  to  with  great  admiration  by  those 
who  could  not  read,  and  who  had  never  been  to 
school;  for  the  school  was  a  modern  affair  and  not 
known  when  his  parents  were  young.  He  helped  his 
mother  in  the  little  shop  by  which  she  had  been  able 
always  to  be  comfortable,  and  which  had  been,  in  un 
usual  liberality  and  kindness,  left  to  her  by  her  hus 
band  when  he  died. 

Some  cousins  of  his,  also  sons  of  widows,  had  been 
to  a  mission  school  and  came  back  full  of  the  wonderful 


THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

things  they  had  learned.  When  they  had  convinced 
him  that  the  world  was  round  and  not  flat,  and  did 
not  rest  on  the  back  of  a  turtle,  and  was  riot  bounded 
by  seas  full  of  serpents  and  dragons,  that  trees,  how 
ever  sacred,  could  not  control  destiny,  that  even  mud 
images  could  do  nothing  for  human  beings,  that 
smallpox  and  other  diseases  could  not  be  driven  away 
by  sacrifices  and  music,  and  that  many  other  things 
of  like  nature  in  which  he  had  believed  were  untrue, 
he  was  bewildered  and  excited  and  indignant  at  his 
teachers  and  his  mother  for  teaching  him  falsehoods, 
and  angry  with  himself  for  having  believed  them. 

Many  days,  sitting  in  the  little  shop  when  his 
mother  thought  him  half  asleep,  he  pondered  these 
things.  What  did  it  all  mean?  He  had  firmly  be 
lieved  all  the  things  that  he  now  found  untrue ;  but 
more  disturbing  than  this  was  the  fact  that  he  had 
also  heard  of  a  God  whom  these  great  and  powerful 
people,  the  sahibs,  worshiped,  who  was  pure  and 
good,  and  who  demanded  of  his  worshipers  that  they 
also  should  be  pure  and  upright  and  truthful  and 
honest.  But,  while  his  cousins  were  content  to  take 
the  surface  of  things  and  accept  the  facts  with  a  sneer 
for  those  who  did  not  know  as  much  as  they,  Shew 
Pershad  determined  to  go  below  all  the  facts  and  see 
what  it  meant,  and  for  this  end  he  resolved  to  learn 
it  from  the  teachers  at  first  hand.  One  day,  after  his 
cousin  had  helped  him  with  the  accounts  of  the  shop 
so  quickly  and  so  cleverly  that  his  mother  was  filled 
with  admiration,  he  said  : 

"  Mother,  I  am  neither  foolish  nor  mad,  and  can 
learn  as  well  as  this  boy,  my  cousin.  I,  too,  will  go  to1 
Lucknow  to  school." 


THE  STORY  OF  SITARA.  147 

The  mother  objected,  but  the  son  was  the  head  of 
the  house  and  had  his  way  and  went  to  school  with 
his  cousins.  They  all  boarded  with  a  connection  of 
the  family,  and  went  together  as  day  students.  All 
that  his  cousins  took  as  a  matter  of  course  astounded 
him,  and  nothing  so  much  as  the  Christian  religion. 
It  was  wonderful  and  beautiful.  Not  a  bowing  down 
to  imperfect,  vindictive,  and  sensual  gods,  but  to  a 
glorious  Being  in  whom  was  all  truth  and  all  love,  and 
in  whose  worship  he  would  also  come  to  a  higher  and 
better  life ;  who  regarded  the  souls,  and  not  bodies, 
and  in  whose  sight  his  loved  and  loving  playmate, 
Sitara,  was  as  good  as  himself.  This  latter  was  to  his 
head  the  most  difficult  of  all,  though  his  heart  accepted 
it  with  joy.  Finally,  after  months  of  teaching  and  of 
faithful  study,  he  presented  himself  to  Mr.  Miller  for 
baptism.  After  thoroughly  catechising  him  in  regard 
to  his  reasons  for  the  request  and  with  regard  to  his 
understanding  and  belief,  he  promised  the  boy  bap 
tism.  Mr.  Miller  also  advised  him  to  at  once  acquaint 
all  his  friends,  and  especially  his  mother,  with  his 
determination. 

There  was  great  trouble  when  this  was  done,  and 
his  mother  and  all  the  members  of  the  family  and  the 
caste  were  angry,  and  declared  him  no  longer  one  of 
them,  but  out  of  caste,  and  that  he  might  go  his  own 
way.  Word  was  even  brought  to  him  that  his  wife 
would  refuse  to  see  his  face  again  if  he  did  not  turn 
from  his  evil  Ways.  He  was  saddened,  but  so  simple 
and  earnest  was  his  belief  that  he  only  looked  upon  it 
as  the  result  of  their  ignorance  and  superstition,  and 
believed  that  they  in  their  hearts  still  loved  him. 

More,  he  knew  that  Sitara  did,  and  he  determined 
11 


148  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

that  at  least  she  should  be  free  from  the  awful  dark 
ness  in  which  his  mother  lived.  There  was  a  trouble 
some  thought  now  and  then  that  he  too,  perhaps, 
might  die  early,  as  his  father  had  done,  and  Sitara 
might  be  left  to  struggle  against  all  the  temptations 
and  trials  of  early  widowhood. 

When  he  thought  of  this  he  was  more  determined 
than  ever  to  free  her,  but  he  knew  it  would  not  be 
safe  for  him  to  go  openly  to  bring  her  away.  He  had 
some  money  of  his  own,  and  he  wrote  her  letters 
which  he  sent  by  a  man  selling  jelabies  and  other 
sweets.  The  man  was  to  ctay  about  the  house  until 
he  could  give  them  into  her  own  hand.  He  had 
taught  her  to  read  a  little,  and  he  only  wrote  very, 
very  short  letters.  First,  "  My  heart  runs  back  to 
Gopal  Gunge  to  make  its  salaams  to  you  ; "  another 
time,  "You  are  still  dear  to  me;"  and  then  another 
on  a  great  fete  day,  "  My  heart  says  that  you  still  love 
me.  If  so,  send  me  the  hiir  of  jasmine  that  you  wear 
around  your  neck  to-day ; "  and  she  sent  it. 

After  receiving  this  he  wrote  again :  "  I  am  a  Chris 
tian,  but  I  know  you  will  come  to  me.  There  is  a 
school  here  where  you  can  live  and  be  cared  for,  and 
I  can  see  you  at  least  each  Sunday  in  the  Christian 
worship-house,  though  I  may  not  speak  to  yon.  Then, 
when  I  have  finished  school,  we  will  have  a  house  of 
our  own,  of  which  you  will  be  sole  mistress.  If  you 
will  come  to  me  at  the  well  in  the  mango  grove  by 
the  old  temple  outside  the  village  at  nine  o'clock  one 
week  from  to-day  send  me  the  coral  necklace  I  bought 
for  you  at  the  Ajudiya  mela." 

The  necklace  came,  and  the  jelabi  man,  who  had 
been  faithful  to  his  trust,  was  dismissed  with  enough 


THE  STORY  OF  SITAKA.  149 

rupees  to  enable  him  to  give  a  dinner  to  liis  relatives. 
Then  lie  got  leave  from  school  for  a  few  days  on  the 
plea  of  seeing  his  wife,  and  met  her  at  the  well. 
There  was  a  room  in  the  old  temple  where  he  and  his 
cousins  had  spent  many  a  pleasant  day,  and  to  this  he 
took  her  and  there  explained  all  he  wished  her  to  do. 
She  agreed  readily,  for  had  he  not  always  been  kinder 
to  her  than  anyone  else,  and  was  he  not  wise  and 
great,  having  traveled  so  far  and  read  .-o  many  books, 
and  did  she  not  love  him  better  than  his  old  mother, 
who  was  often  so  fierce  with  her  when  matters  did 
not  go  well  in  the  shop?  He  had  brought  food 
enough  in  his  pockets  for  the  next  day,  and  he  would 
remain  there  all  the  day  and  the  next  night.  She 
was  to  bring  all  that  belonged  to  her  and  join  him, 
and  they  would  go  away  into  that  wonderful  world 
that  lay  far  beyond  the  little  village  and  its  sleepy  in 
habitants. 

When  he  presented  his  wife  to  Mr.  Miller  the  good 
man  was  much  surprised,  and  hardly  knew  what  to 
say,  and  so  sent  her  to  .Miss  Whitlow  for  a  short  time 
until  arrangements  could  be  made  to  place  her  in 
some  school. 

This  is  the  story  Miss  Whitlow  told  Mrs.  Clinton 
as  they  sat  in  the  gathering  dusk  waiting  for  the 
missionaries  to  come  in  for  the  station  meeting. 

This  latter  was  a  time-honored  institution,  and  was 
of  a  nondescript  type  of  monthly  assembling  together 
for  mutual  help  and  encouragement.  There  was  a 
president  to  preside  and  secretary  to  keep  record,  and 
in  this  record  could  be  traced  the  circumstantial  his 
tory  of  most  of  the  work  done  by  this  mission  in  the 
place. 


150  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

To-night  there  was  added  interest  in  the  meeting, 
for  it  was  understood  there  was  a  "chiel  amang  them 
takin'  notes,"  and  whether  or  not  lie  meant  "  to  prent 
them  "  they  were  all  anxious  that  the  notes  might  be 
favorable,  as  much  of  the  future  of  the  mission  might 
be  endangered  if  the}7  were  unfavorable.  Each  and 
every  one  was  sure  that  if  the  Bishop  could  see  his 
own  particular  work  in  all  its  bearings  he  could  not 
fail  to  be  more  interested  in  it  than  in  any  other,  and 
consequently  give  his  time  to  help  in  that  direction. 

After  the  reading  of  the  minutes  of  the  last  meet 
ing  Miss  Lowe  was  called  on  for  her  report.  She 
began : 

"We  have  had  an  unusually  good  month.  The 
heads  of  several  good  Mohammedan  families  have  sent, 
asking  us  to  come  and  see  their  women.  When  there 
are  promising  new  families  ready  to  be  taught  any 
thing  we  wish  to  teach  them  we  drop  out  the  old 
places  which  seem  less  hopeful,  for  we  have  so  many 
more  places  than  we  can  visit  that  we  must  make  a 
selection.  I  see  a  marked  growth  of  interest  in  the 
Bible  in  many  places,  and  especially  in  the  villages 
near  Lucknow.  The  ground  is  new  in  the  villages, 
the  women  more  simple,  and  they  receive  the  word 
more  gladly,  and  we  are  giving  our  time  chiefly  to 
village  work.  I  must  tell  you  of  one  pitiful  little  scene 
in  a  zenana  yesterday.  I  was  hurrying  up  a  lane  over 
at  Hosainabad  when  an  old  woman,  evidently  a  serv 
ant,  came  out  of  a  door  in  a  wall  and  said : 

" '  Miss  Sahib,  will  you  come  and  see  my  mistress. 
She  is  very  ill,  and  my  heart  tells  me  that  she  will 
soon  die,  perhaps  even  to-day  ;  and  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  face  as  she  spoke. 


THE  STORY  OF  SITARA.  151 

I  was  late,  but  I  thought  I  must  go,  and  I  followed 
her  through  the  door  into  a  court  which  was  filled  with 
palms  and  marigolds  and  saw  that  I  was  in  the  house 
of  one  of  the  better  class  of  Hindoos.  The  woman  mo 
tioned  me  to  go  quietly.  On  the  veranda  I  saw  a  charpai 
and  a  heap  of  bright  color  on  it.  As  I  went  closer  I  saw 
that  a  girl  wrapped  in  a  red  and  green  quilt  was  lying 
on  a  bed  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  even  then  I  could 
see  that  the  face  was  as  sad  as  the  voice  in  which  she 
was  murmuring  the  words,  'My  baby,  O,  my  baby!' 
She  looked  like  a  little  girl,  and  yet  I  concluded  she 
must  be  the  woman's  mistress  and  a  wife  and  mother. 
I  motioned  to  the  woman  to  tell  her  that  I  had  come, 
and  I  stood  a  little  back,  where  she  could  riot  see  me. 
Her  eyes  opened  quickly,  and  with  a  start  she  raised 
herself  up  on  her  elbow,  but  sank  back  at  once,  as 
though  too  weak  to  support  her  head.  Her  eyes 
looked  so  big  and  mournful,  and  even  the  surprise  of 
seeing  me  did  not  take  the  heart-broken  expression 
out  of  them.  Pretty  soon  her  face  changed  and  a 
very  bright  look  of  recognition  came  into  them,  and 
she  said,  joyfully : 

"  '  O,  it  is  my  Miss  Sahib  !  It  is  my  Miss  Sahib ! 
Janki,'  she  gasped  to  the  woman,  'how  often  I  have 
told  you  of  her! ' 

"I  bent  over  her  and  took  her  hand  and  said  : 

"'I  am  very  glad  YOU  know  me.  Where  did  you 
see  me?' 

"  'Do  you  not  know  ?  In  a  little  school  in  Ghasira 
Mundi.  I  went  a  little  while  only,  but  it  was  sweet 
and  good.' 

""  She  was  very  weak,  and  her  breath  came  quickly, 
and  to  let  her  rest  I  spoke  to  the  woman  and  asked 


152  THE  BISHOP'S  CONTEBSION. 

about  her  mistress's  sickness.  She  told  me  first  that 
the  child's  husband  was  old  and  cared  chiefly  for  his 
shop.  She  had  been  ill  six  months,  ever  since  her 
baby  died  ;  and  as  she  said  this  the  tears  came  fast 
from  her  eyes,  bnt  the  poor  little  mother  lay  quite 
quiet  until  her  servant  had  finished,  and  then  she  said 
so  sadly,  so  very  sadly  : 

"  'And  O,  Miss  Sahib,  he  was  such  a  beautiful  baby, 
so  strong  and  so  glad  always,  and  his  father  was  so 
proud  ot'  him  !  lie  went,  and  soon  I  shall  go,  bnt 
not  where  he  is;  for  into  the  body  of  some  wild  ani 
mal  he  will  go,  and  who  will  care  for  him?' 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  sad  hopelessness  of  that 
gasping  cry.  I  knelt  by  her  and  took  her  tiny  hands 
in  mine,  and  I  said  :  '  Do  yon  not  know  what  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord  said— "  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  king 
dom  of  heaven  ?"  It  is  true,  and  your  beautiful  child 
is  safe  with  him,  where  you  too  can  join  him.  It  is 
true.'1  I  said  it  in  a  way  that  convinced  her,  for  I 
felt  there  was  no  time  to  lose. 

"  '  How  can  I  go  ? '  she  asked,  eagerly  ;  '  women 
have  no  place  in  heaven.  It  is  only  men  who  have  a 
right  there.' 

"'Then,'  I  said,  'you  must  believe  all  my  word.-. 
for  they  are  true.  "God  so  loved  the  world  that  lie 
gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
on  him  should  not  perish,  bnt  have  everlasting  life.*' 

"  '  O,'  she  said,  '  1  learned  that  in  the  school,  and  I 
have  said  it  many  times  since,  but  my  little  boy's 
father  said  it  was  not  true.  Is  it  true  ?'  and  her  eyes 
held  mine  as  though  she  would  force  the  truth  from 

O 

me. 


TTTE  STOKY  OF  SITAKA.  153 

"I  said,  'It  is  true,  and  if  you  believe  it  and  ask 
God  to  forgive  you  and  take  you  to  him  and  to  your 
dear  baby  he  will  do  it.'  I  wish  1  could  tell  you  how 
joyful  her  poor  pale  face  was  ;  then  she  closed  her 
eyes,  and  while  praying  sank  into  a  gentle  sleep.  I 
came  away,  telling  the  old  woman  to  get  nourishing 
things  for  her,  though  I  had  not  much  hope  that  she 
would  need  them  long.  I  was  so  glad  she  had  been 
in  the  school  even  for  a  few  days,  otherwise  I  fear 
she  was  too  weak  to  have  understood  my  words. 
This  morning  I  went,  and  she  had  gone  to  nleet  her 
beautiful  baby." 

There  was  a  little  silence;  then  Miss  Dillon  said: 

"  The  school  has  gone  on  as  usual.  One  or  two 
new  ones  came,  and  I  had  one  or  two  applications  for 
scholarship,  but  as  I  had  no  more  I  was  obliged  to  re 
fuse.  The  girls'  prayer  meeting  has  been  especially 
good  of  late.  There  seems  to  be  a  new  interest  in  it. 
Two  girls  that  have  been  perfectly  incorrigible  have 
taken  an  earnest  stand  and  professed  a  personal  ex 
perience  of  the  salvation  of  Christ,  and  have  told  me 
they  hope  to  devote  their  lives  to  mission  work.  I 
have  looked  for  a  change  in  their  daily  lives,  and  have 
not  been  disappointed.  The  effect  has  been  felt  all 
through  the  school,  and  I  hope  much  from  them. 
They  will  be  baptized  soon,  as  their  parents  have 
made  no  objection,  though  they  are  not  decided 
Christians  themselves. 

"I  find  my  greatest  difficulty  in  keeping  the  girls  to 
their  native  habits  of  dress,  and  find  more  need  than 
ever  to  simplify  my  own  dress  and  habits  of  life." 

Miss  "Whitlow  came  next : 

"  That  latter  point  of  Miss  Dillon's  is  one  with 


154  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

which  I  can  sympathize.  There  seems  something  in 
woman  nature  all  over  the  world  that  delights  in 
adorning  itself  with  what  it  considers  beautiful,  and 
it  is  often  a  great  question  to  know  where  innocent 
pleasure  ends  and  vanity  begins.  I  have  learned  at 
least  one  thing  in  my  fifteen  years  in  India,  to  be  more 
strict  with  myself  in  my  dj'ess  and  not  so  strict  with 
them.  I  have  found  it  easier  to  discard  every  sign  or 
suggestion  of  trimming  or  frilling  or  ornament  in  my 
own  dress  than  to  explain  to  them  why  my  dresses 
should  have  it  and  not  theirs. 

'•  Two  new  women  have  entered  the  Home  this 
month,  of  one  of  which  Mrs.  Clinton  can  tell  you ; 
"and  one  has  left  because  she  preferred  to  go  back  to 
her  old  ways  of  sin.  Three  women  are  ready  for  bap 
tism,  and  will  present  themselves  for  it  next  Sundav 
if  all  is  well." 

Then  Mr.  Mackenzie  gave  his  report : 
"  The  papers  have  gone  on  as  usual,  but  I  have  had 
difficulty  with  the  bookbinder.  He  demands  more 
than  I  will  give  him,  as  he  knows  we  have  promised 
books  that  are  not  ready.  Otherwise  from  this  I  have 
had  no  unusual  trouble.  Bishop  Wilbur's  tracts  are  in 
great  demand,  and  the  call  for  moral  essays  and  all  that 
kind  of  books  is  steadily  increasing.  Several  promi 
nent  Hindoos  have  sent  for  handsomely  bound  Bibles, 
and  the  general  tide  seems  to  be  toward  reading  Eng 
lish  books  of  any  kind  if  they  are  only  cheap.  This 
shows  me  more  than  ever  the  great  need  of  good  and 
suitable  books  and  the  necessity  of  setting  apart  a 
missionary  whose  sole  work  will  be  to  select  things 
for  translation  and  also  write  in  the  vernaculars. 
There  is  so  much  bad  cheap  literature  floating  about 


THE  STORY  OF  SITAKA.  155 

that  something,  and  something  very  strong  and  wide 
spread,  is  needed  to  counteract  its  influence,  and  also 
to  take  its  place,  and  any  English  books  that  can  be 
widely  advertised  as  being  cheaper  than  this  vile  trash 
that  is  read  will  easily  supersede  it." 

Mr.  Miller  said  there  was  nothing  new  in  the 
school ;  Mrs.  Miller,  Miss  May,  of  the  college  class, 
and  Mrs.  Mackenzie  all  said  they  had  been  working 
hard,  but  had  nothing  to  tell,  as  it  was  only  in  the 
ordinary  routine  of  their  work,  and  Mr.  Carnton  told 
of  the  coming  over  of  the  whole  village  of  Belai  to 
Christianity. 

Mr.  Train,  of  the  English  Church,  said  his  work 
was  go-ing  on  as  usual.  The  Epworth  League,  mod 
eled  on  the  plan  in  America,  was  increasing  in  in 
terest  and  was  uniting  the  young  people  and  creating 
a  sentiment  which  was  especially  needed.  lie  re 
ported  several  conversions  among  Eurasians,  and  said 
they  would  be  on  probation  and  under  instruction 
and  baptized  on  proof  of  their  stability.  The  native 
pastor  was  not  present,  and  Mr.  Miller  reported  for 
him  that  he  was  faithful  in  his  work,  earnest  in 
preaching,  and  generally  popular  among  his  people. 
That  one  of  the  things  in  which  native  Christians 
needed  especial  training  was  the  holy  keeping  of  the 
Sabbath  and  in  the  regular  attendance  at  church.  It 
was  difficult  for  them  to  understand  that  it  could  be 
required  of  them  to  go  twice  a  day  to  hear  sermons  as 
well  as  once  a  day  to  Sunday  school  on  every  seventh 
day.  The  natural  conclusion  was  that  one  sermon  a 
day  was  enough  and  all  they  could  remember  and  un 
derstand.  He  thought  there  was  a  general  missionary 
feeling  in  the  Church,  a  feeling  of  responsibility  for 


156  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

the  conversion  of  their  neighbors  and  friends;  they 
supported  one  large  Sunday  school  in  the  city,  and 
they  always  give  liberally  to  missionary  collections 
and  to  support  their  own  pastor. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  liberally  ? ''  said  the 
Bishop. 

"  When  we  speak  of  the  native  being  liberal  it 
does  not  mean  what  it  would  were  I  to  say  I  was 
liberal,  as  their  salaries  range  from  two  dollars  a 
month  upward  to  thirty,  with  very  few  above  this, 
and  when  a  man  keeps  a  family  on  two  or  three  dol 
lars  per  month  he  has  not  much  left  for  giving/' 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  asked  for  her  report  in  rather  a 
jocular  way,  as  though  not  expecting  any,  and  all  were 
a  little  surprised  when  she  gave  an  account  of  what 
she  had  done  in  the  way  of  settling  her  house  and 
making  calls,  and  also  the  story  of  Pnlmoni,  and  there 
was  a  vigorous  clapping  of  hands  when  she  closed. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say'that  she  omitted  her  ex 
perience  with  her  cook,  for  some  things  had  already 
shown  her  the  absurdity  of  part  of  her  plan,  and  she 
regretted  that  she  had  not  waited  a  few  weeks  before 
she  began  her  experiment. 

As  her  report  was  so  full  and  extended  the  Bishop 
was  asked  to  give  his,  and,  perhaps  unwisely,  also  asked 
to  give  his  impressions  of  mission  work. 

"  I  have  been  in  this  place  nearly  a  week,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  seen  all  of  the  missionaries  of  our  own  mis 
sion,  and  some  of  those  of  other  missions ;  I  have  seen 
jugglers  and  shawl-merchants;  I  have  seen  coolies 
and  Brahmans  ;  I  have  seen  Mohammedans,  Hindoos, 
and  Christians;  I  have  seen  boys'  day  schools,  the 
boys'  boarding  school  and  college,  and  the  girls' 


THE  STORY  or  SITARA.  157 

boarding  school ;  I  have  seen  the  publishing  house, 
the  Central  Native  Church  and  the  English-speaking 
Church,  and  the  Home  of  the  Homeless.  I  have 
given  a  superficial  attention  to  each  one  of  these,  as  in 
the  short  time  I  could  not  give  more  ;  I  have  been 
amazed,  I  have  been  pleased  and  displeased  ;  I  have 
been  surprised  at  the  strength  and  disappointed  at  the 
weakness  of  the  work.  I  have  seen  men  and  women 
depriving  themselves  of  comforts  in  order  to  provide 
schools  and  distribute  books  and  tracts,  and  yet  in 
dulging  in  luxuries;  I  have  seen  methods  wise  and 
methods  as  unwise  in  the  conducting  of  various  parts 
of  good  work.  I  would  say  there  is  great  need  of 
many  changes  and  much  perfecting  of  plans  and  much 
correction  of  methods  in  a  work  whose  size  and  ex 
tent  is  amazing  to  me.  I  beg  you  to  remember  that 
I  was  asked  to  give  1113'  impressions,  and  I  have  done 
so,  but  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  I  shall  give  them  to 
no  one  else  until  they  have  hardened  into  opinions.  I 
will  not  now  go  into  details,  but  simply  say  that  I 
am  open  to  conviction  in  regard  to  the  points  on 
which  I  differ  from  you  and  in  which  I  believe  you 
arc  making  mistakes.  But  I  am  sure  of  one  thing  at 
least,  we  want  less  working  on  organic  lines,  less  of 
looking  to  the  health  and  comfort  and  respectability, 
and  more  of  the  old-time  enthusiastic  evangelical 
work,  more  stir,  more  rush,  more  abandon,  arid,  if 
need  be  as  a  consequence,  more  missionary  graves  in 
India." 

This  was  a  bomb  in  the  midst  of  this  quiet  circle, 
and  after  its  explosion  there  was  silence.  It  is  possi 
ble  that  the  Bishop  thought  his  episcopal  authority 
extended  to  India  and  warranted  him  in  his  attitude 


158  THE  BISHOP'S  CONA'ERSION. 

toward  the  missionaries.  Certainly  lie  did  not  under 
stand  the  fact  that  he  was  dealing  with  men  who  were 
practically  bishops  themselves  in  their  own  territories, 
and  looked  upon  him  simply  as  a  visitor  without  any 
authority.  It  was  noticed  that  he  did  not  mention 
his  humiliating  defeat  by  the  sun,  though  he  could 
not  have  forgotten  it,  for  his  head  was  still  aching  and 
his  eyes  bloodshot. 

The  president  said,  gravely  :  "  Your  report  lias  the 
merit  of  being  frank,  at  least.  As  you  wisely  say, 
you  are  only  giving  impressions.  1  shall  ask  the  sec 
retary  to  make  this  evident  as  she  records  your  words. 
At  the  end  of  the  year  you  propose  spending  here  wo 
shall  hope  to  record  your  judgment,  and  allow  me  to 
say  that  I  sincerely  hope  some  of  your  words  will  not 
be  recorded  the  second  time." 

The  formal  meeting  was  closed  with  prayer,  and 
then  tea  was  served  and  conversation  became  general. 
Mrs.  Clinton  regretted  her  husband's  plain  speaking, 
for  she  did  not  see  how  it  could  fail  to  intensify  the 
antagonism  in  the  mission  which  she  was  sure  was 
there,  for  she  did  not  see  how  it  could  fail  to  be  there. 
But,  however,  there  was  apparently  little  attention 
paid  to  his  remarks;  in  fact,  no  one  spoke  to  him  on 
the  subject  except  Mrs.  Miller,  to  ask  with  asperity, 
"If  he  was  willing  to  set  the  example  in  regard  to  all 
he  was  advising  ( "  but  he  ignored  the  question,  and 
argued  with  Dr.  Wall,  who  had  come  up  from  Allaha 
bad  to  take  over  the  treasury  work  from  Mackenzie. 
Dr.  Wall  was  trying  to  show  him  that  already  the 
evangelical  work  had  outstripped  the  organic  work, 
and  that  a  man  was  in  no  position  to  judge  until  he 
had  seen  all  the  mission  stations.  The  subject  on 


THE  STORY  OF  SITARA.  159 

which  all  were  talking,  and  which  seemed  to  elicit  a 
good  deal  of  amusement,  was  a  circular  letter  which 
each  had  received  from  some  one  in  authority  asking, 
in  consideration  of  various  reports  which  were  being 
circulated  at  home,  that  each  missionary  should  give 
a  detailed  account  of  his  manner  of  living  and  send  a 
photograph  of  his  home.  The  point  involved  that 
seemed  to  afford  amusement  was  the  modest  request 
for  a  photograph. 

Mrs.  Miller  said  :  "He,  at  least,  must  believe  we  are 
extravagant,  else  he  would  not  have  asked  us  to  do  so 
extravagant  a  thing  as  have  our  houses  photographed. 
We  cannot  even  afford  our  own  photographs  to  send 
to  our  friends.  I  have  wanted  one  for  years  to  send 
to  my  father,  and  could  not  find  any  money  with 
which  to  pay  for  it.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  send  a 
letter  saying  we  should  like  to  have  a  photograph  of 
his  house  and  an  account  of  the  way  he  lives.  We 
have  as  much  right  to  ask  it  of  him  as  he  of  us, 
for  he  is  supported  by  missionary  money  as  well  as 
we  are." 

There  was  a  laugh  at  this  sally  ;  then  Miss  Whitlow 
said :  "  The  cost  of  a  photograph  would  just  support 
the  school  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  give  up  for  the 
one  year,  so  I  cannot  send  one,  and  I  cannot  find 
time  to  write  letters  now  at  any  rate." 

"  I  mean  to  do  it,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie  ;  "  not  the 
photograph,  of  course,  but  the  description.  I  shall 
not  say  my  house  looks  well  and  is  quite  all  I  want, 
but  I  shall  describe  the  dry-goods  boxes  I  use  for 
tables  ;  and  also  the  fact  that  I  have  not  one  curtain  in 
my  house  would  make  a  good  point." 

Then  some  one  spoke  of  the  approaching  festivities 


1GO  THE  BISHOP'S  CO;NVKRSION. 

in  honor  of  the  visit  of  the  future  King-  of  England, 
and  some  one  else  asked  Carnton  if  lie  registered  the 
names  of  all  the  missionaries  of  the  station  in  the  vis 
itors'  book  at  Government  House. 

"  O,"  laughed  Carnton,  "  this  is  why  you  all  insisted 
on  the  necessity  of  my  calling  there." 

"Yes,"  answered  Miller;  "and  why  not?  The 
newcomers  usually  are  sure  of  something  respectable 
in  which  to  appear.  We  did  duty  when  we  first  came, 
now  it  is  your  turn." 

"And  if  we  did  not  get  our  names  on  the  visitors' 
book  we  would  not  be  invited  to  meet  the  prince," 
said  his  wife. 

"Would  that  be  an  irreparable  loss?"  asked  Mrs. 
Clinton,  a  little  scornfully. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  Mackenzie  ;  "  but  we  must  ap 
pear  to  show  our  loyalty." 

"  And  you  forget  the  Fourth  of  July  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,"  said  Miss  May,  who  was  also  one  of  the 
new  missionaries. 

"  No ;  but  one  of  the  first  steps  in  making  men  bet 
ter  and  stronger  is  to  teach  them  to  be  good  citizens 

O  CJ 

and  loyal  to  the  government  that  protects  them." 

"A  very  just  sentiment,"  remarked  the  Bishop. 
"  We  certainly  have  enough  of  the  opposite  to  this  in 
people  coming  to  America  and  working  against  all 
law  and  all  who  execute  law." 

"  Well,"  said  Mackenzie,  "  I  am  willing  to  be  loyal, 
but  I  am  not  sure  it  goes  to  the  extent  of  buying  a 
new  hat,  as  I  shall  be  obliged  to  do  if  I  appear  on  this 
occasion." 

"  I  also,"  said  Miss  Lowe. 

"  I  likewise,"  said  Miss  Whitlow. 


Tin-;  STORV  OF  SITAKA.  l(il 

"And  I,"'  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  amid  the  general 
laugh. 

After  the  large  square  curds  came  requesting  the 
honor  of  their  presence  to  meet  his  royal  highness 
at  a  garden  party  in  the  park  some  of  the  new  hats 
were  bought  and  some  were  not.  Those  that  bought 
them  reflected  that  if  they  did  not  buy  them  then 
they  would  have  it  to  do  the  following  year ;  those 
that  did  not  buy  them  reflected  that  next  year  they 
would  be  fresh. 


162  THE  BISHOP'S  COXVEKSION. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   VISIT   OF   THE   PRINCE. 

prince  came,  of  course.  On  the  morning  of 
J.  his  arrival  there  was  great  stir  and  rush  and 
commotion  in  the  European  quarter  of  Lucknow,  and 
even  the  native  part  felt  a  thrill  of  expectation,  and 
poured  out  its  inhabitants  in  their  best  dress  to  throng 
the  streets  and  add  color  and  movement  to  the  scene. 

Arches  of  welcome  lifted  themselves  bravely  on  the 
roads  the  royal  visitor  was  expected  to  pass,  and  the 
roads  themselves  were  outlined  by  fences  of  lattice 
work  which  was  to  support  the  chirags  for  the  illumi 
nations.  All  society  was  on  the  terraced  tops  of  the 
principal  hotels  waiting  impatiently ;  for  at  seven  in 
the  morning,  even  in  February,  the  sun  is  too  pene 
trating  when  straw  hats  and  unlined  parasols  are  the 
only  barrier  between  its  rays  and  the  head  of  the 
European. 

All  not  of  society  waited  in  the  streets  on  foot,  in 
shabby  garis,  and  sometimes  in  smart  carriages.  The 
soldiers  forming  the  guard  that  extended  from  Govern 
ment  House  to  the  railway,  station  gazed  with  stolid 
eyes  on  the  procession  of  elephants  and  camels,  in  their 
best  scarlet  and  gold  drapery,  as  they  lumbered  down 
toward  the  station  to  pay  their  respects  and  lumbered 
back  again  behind  and  before  the  plainly  dressed 
youth  who  sat  erect  in  his  carriage  looking  very  tired 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  163 

and  almost  sad  because  of  all  the  attention  lie  was 
receiving. 

The  program  of  his  visit  at  Lucknow  was  as  fol 
lows  :  The  public  reception  at  the  railway  station ; 
bath  and  change  of  dress,  and  tea  at  Government 
House ;  the  opening  of  the  Female  Hospital  erected 
under  the  auspices  of  the  association  organized  by 
that  wise  and  gracious  lady,  the  Countess  of  Dufferin  ; 
breakfast ;  a  drive  to  the  ruins  of  the  Residency  and 
Dil  Kusha;  a  garden  party ;  a  dinner  and  a  reception 
by  the  native  princes,  with  a  private  departure  the  fol 
lowing  morning.  That  the  prince's  speech  at  the  open 
ing  of  the  hospital  was  not  a  marvel  of  eloquence,  and 
that  his  words  were  halting  and  shyly  given  was  not 
so  strange  as  disappointing  to  those  who  wished  the 
English  government  to  appear  at  its  best. 

Following  the  breakfast,  at  which  were  only  the 
ci'eme  de  la  creme,  was  the  drive.  Following  this  the 
u-nrden  party  in  "Wingfield  Park,  to  which  the  whole 
of  the  government  list  wras  asked. 

This  park  is  beautiful  with  all  that  nature,  shaped 
and  guided  by  art,  can  do  for  a  plot  of  ground. 
Grand  old  trees  of  banyan,  tamarind,  and  pipal,  their 
round  dark  masses  of  foliage  contrasting  well  "with 
the  straight  tall  palms  and  the  gray,  undecided-looking 
eucalyptus,  through  the  openings  in  whose  foliage 
were  views  of  arch  and  dome  and  minaret. 

The  central  part,  free  from  many  large  trees,  was 
brilliant  in  all  of  color  that  flaming  begonias,  bougain- 
villias,  beds  of  roses,  crimson,  pink,  yellow,  white, 
could  give  to  a  place.  Through  it  all  wound  the 
smooth  dull  red  roads,  cutting  softly  into  close- 
cropped  green  sward  and  joined  by  small  bridges 
13 


164  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVKRSION. 

thrown  across  nullas  ending  in  fine  perspective  at 
marble  shrine  or  pavilion. 

To-day  the  roses  bloomed  their  best,  and  both  roses 
and  heliotrope  greeted  each  newcomer  with  a  breath 
so  soft  and  sweet  that  it  was  a  delight  simply  to  live 
and  inhale  it.  When  Mrs.  Clinton  and  Lillian,  with 
Mrs.  Mackenzie,  arrived,  the  park  was  alive  with  beau 
tiful  women  in  fresh  costumes  and  men  looking  shy 
and  self-conscious  in  unaccustomed  black. 

Along  with  these,  but  clearly  not  of  them,  were  na 
tive  princes  in  all  the  glory  of  priceless  shawls  or 
brilliantly  colored  gold-embroidered  chapkans.  There 
was  more  than  the  buying  of  new  hats  to  make  the 
mission  log  dread  the  garden  ]  arty.  They  are  so  gen 
erally  buried  in  their  work  that  they  are  annoyed 
with  anything  that  is  not  work  and  do  not  know  how 
to  manage  it. 

Now  and  then  kind-hearted  people  go  out  of  their 
way  to  ask  them  to  garden  parties  or  dinners,  but 
those  who  receive  the  invitation  are  often  sorry  and 
those  who  give  it,  nearly  always  sorry;  for  when  the 
latter  have  actually  got  a  missionary  on  their  hands 
they  do  not  know  what  to  clo  with  him.  He  is  heavy 
and  often  sad,  he  is  stern  and  pays  no  compliments 
and  tells  no  stories;  he  steps  on  the  ladies'  trains  and 
wishes  himself  home  in  bed  gathering  strength  in 
order  that  he  may  put  two  days'  work  into  one.  So  it 
is  with  a  sigh  of  relief  on  both  sides  that  he  bids  his 
hostess  good  night,  and  it  will  be  many  a  long  day 
before  he  is  invited  again;  and  he  burrows  in  his 
•work  and  forgets  the  social  amenities  of  life.  "When 
the  viceroy  comes  on  his  annual  tour,  or  some  royal 
highness  happens  along,  then  comes  the  request, 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  165 

otherwise  command,  to  be  present  at  a  ball  or  garden 
party  or  reception.  The  first  always  calls  up  a  smile 
and  the  latter  are  laid  on  the  table  with  the  thought 
that  they  ought  to  be  accepted,  and,  if  there  is  time 
that  can  be  snatched,  the  missionary  and  his  wife 
emerge  for  an  hour  or  two  and  look  on  what  is  to 
them  another  world.  Though  it  brightens  them  up 
they  feel  so  little  lot  and  part  in  it  all  that  they  go 
back  happy  to  their  work  and  their  native  friends. 

There  was  an  unusual  number  of  missionaries  pres 
ent  to  show  their  respect  to  the  prince.  They  came 
at  different  times  and  were  of  different  missions,  but 
they  gravitated  toward  each  other  and  stood  -quietly 
about,  interested  in  the  new  costumes,  fresh  from 
Paris  for  the  occasion,  chatted  with  occasional  ac 
quaintances  among  the  native  princes,  or  sat  under 
the  "  shamiana  "  quietly  observing  the  scene  and  wish 
ing  it  were  over.  The  Bishop  came  late  with  Oarnton, 
both  having  worked  up  to  the  last  moment.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  latter  stood  by  Sidney,  who  was  in  the 
marble  pavilion,  with  Lillian  at  her  side,  looking  at 
the  jewels  placed  there  in  securely  locked  glass  cases 
for  general  inspection.  The  wild  ro>e  color  was  a 
little  deeper  in  her  cheeks  than  usual,  for  the  others 
had  been  remarking  on  the  fact  of  her  having  both  a 

O  O 

new  dress  and  a  new  hat  for  the  occasion,  and  Mrs. 
Clinton  said,  laughingly,  that  it  might  be  a  good  thing 
to  suggest  to  the  "  ladies  at  home "  to  make  an 
especial  appropriation  for  one  new  dress  and  one 
bonnet  for  all  the  single  lady  missionaries  each  year. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Lillian,  so  earnestly  that  all 
laughed. 

"  Lillian's  judgment  is  sound,"  said  Carnton,  watch- 


1C6  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

ing  the  color  deepen  in  Sidney's  cheeks  Sidney 
turned  away  and  bent  over  the  case  of  jewels  next 
to  her.  It  was  all  very  well  fur  the  others,  but  from 
him,  her  new  friend,  for  she  claimed  him  as  such,  she 
could  not  bear  that  kind  of  talk. 

"O,  Miss  Mellen,  look!"  cried  Lillian.  "The 
mark  on  this  coat  is  forty  thousand  rupees  !  Is  it  not 
perfectly  lovely  I " 

"What? — the  mark?*'  said  Carnton,  teasingly,  as 
he  glanced  indifferently  at  a  purple  velvet  coat,  em 
broidered  heavily  with  gold,  and  thickly  sown  with 
pearls,  large  and  small. 

"And  this,"  said  Lillian,  oblivious  to  any  remark, 
and  giving  Sidney  a  pull,  "isn't  this  a  darling-?" 
pointing  to  a  necklace  of  pearls;  "and  this,"  indicat 
ing  one  of  diamonds;  "and  this,"  dragging  her  friend 
along.  Then  there  were  more  necklaces  of  pearls, 
then  a  huge  one  of  topazes,  with  long  pendants  of 
the  same,  then  a  case  of  opals  and  moonstones,  and 
next  to  that  one  of  sapphires  and  turquoises. 

Lillian  had  a  passion  for  stones  strange  in  a  child. 
Their  color  and  brilliancy  delighted  her  beyond  meas 
ure,  and  here  she  found  a  feast. 

Others  looked  at  the  prince  and  watched  Sir  May- 
land's  struggles  with  him,  but  she  had  eyes  only  for 
the  treasures  before  her.  Carnton  had  introduced  a 
nawab,  who  could  speak  English,  to  the  Bishop,  and 
then  felt  free  to  do  whatever  he  liked,  which  seemed 
to  be  to  look  at  Sidney  and  talk  to  her. 

"  Sir  Mayland  looks  worried,"  lie  said,  lightly,  as 
the  prince  came  near,  "as  though  he  feared  his  lion 
might  slip  his  leash,  escape  his  keepers,  and  be  at 
in  a  defenseless  crowd/' 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  107 

"  Certainly  ;  whether  or  not  lie  is  afraid,  his  eyes 
never  for  an  instant  leave  his  royal  guest.  Some  one 
who  knows  him  well  says  that  his  hair  is  perceptibly 
grayer  than  it  was  yesterday  morning.  Of  course,  I 
suppose  it  is  something  of  a  responsibility  to  make 
the  visit  a  success  all  around — native  princes  and  all."' 

"  Yes,  indeed,  and  I  do  not  envy  him  in  the  least; 
but  what  do  you  think  of  him — not  Sir  Mayland,  but 
our  future  sovereign  ?  This  is  the  proper  thing  to  say 
to-dav,  and  leave  the  weather  to  some  less  fortunate 
day.'' 

"What  do  you  think  of  him?"  Sidney  replied, 
asking  another  question. 

"  I  am  profoundly  sorry  for  him.  Traveling  night 
and  day,  constantly  assisting  at  functions  and  making 
speeches,  and  attending  fetes  and  dinners  and  balls 
and  receptions,  until  his  soul  must  loathe  the  land  of 
India.  It  is  new  and  strange,  and  the  strangest  part 
of  all  must  be  his  sudden  coming  to  the  front  in  this 
way,  for  he  has  been  kept  as  a  boy  at  home." 

"By  the  way,  our  native  Christian  gathering  was  a 
failure  this  morning." 

"  How  was  that  ? " 

"  There  was  something  wrong  in  the  management 
or  the  program,  and  it  turned  out  a  muddle,  and 
disappointing  to  those  who  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
come.  If  we  had  gone  in  for  a  little  more  shan-o- 
shaukat  we  might  have  succeeded  in  getting  the  com 
missioner's  attention,  or  had  it  been  the  prince's  most 
august  grandmother  it  might  have  been  a  different 
matter.  Speaking  of  her  reminds  me  of  the  last  ex 
ploit  of  our  tamasha  wala  missionary.  Did  you  hear 
what  he  did?"' 


16&  THE  BISHOP^S  CONVERSION. 

"  Mr.  Creed  \  No,  but  something  funny,  I  am 
sure." 

"  Of  course.  He  tried  first  to  get  an  audience  with 
the  prince  in  order  to  solicit  his  subscription  for  the 
Gawahi-i-ffind,  but  he  was  barred  out.  Then  he 
wrote  the  prince  a  most  grandiloquent  letter  begging 
a  subscription,  which  was  answered  by  the  private 
secretary,  who  sent  the  price  of  two  copies  of  the 
paper  for  a  year.  Then  Creed  wrote  a  letter  of  pro 
fuse  thanks,  and  sent  his  salaams  to  '  the  respected 
grandmother,'  and  begged  the  prince  on  his  arrival  at 
Windsor  to  solicit  her  subscription  for  the  paper." 

"  The  most  annoying  part  of  it  all  is  that  he  is  not 
given  credit  for  zeal,  but  is  simply  taken  as  a  speci 
men  of  Yankee  cheek.  Colonel  Reed,  who  told  me, 
said  as  he  finished,  '  Creed  is  a  genuine  American.'  I 
must  say  one  gets  rather  tired  of  '  the  genuine  and 
typical  American'  after  having  him  so  often  pointed 
out." 

They  found  themselves  alone  in  the  Baradari,  the 
people,  like  a  lot  of  children  with  a  hand  organ,  hav 
ing  followed  in  the  wake  of  the  prince,  who  had  been 
taken  down  one  of  the  walks  between  the  pansy  beds 
to  see  a  fight  between  a  cobra  and  a  mongoose. 

"  I  need  hardly  ask  you  if  you  have  been  in  the 
fernery,"  Carnton  said,  leading  the  way  down  the 
steps  toward  it,  "  for  I  hear  you  never  go  to  any  place 
but  to  your  work." 

"  My  presence  here  to-day  confutes  that  state 
ment." 

"  To-day  does  not  count,  Everybody  must  come 
to-day — that  is,  if  asked,  but  the  time  to  see  the  park 
is  at  daybreak.  I  have  been  down  twice  this  week  at 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  160 

that  time.  I  get  the  exercise  1  need,  and  have  a  book 
of  history  which  I  have  to  teach  in  my  pocket,  and  pre 
pare  the  lesson  as  I  walk.  You  would  enjoy  the  walk." 

"  I  dare  say,  but  we  are  on  our  way  to  the  zenanas 
at  that  time,  or  will  be  after  this  week.  It  is  getting 
a  little  hot  already  in  the  middle  of  the  day." 

"  Yes,  the  hot  winds  have  fairly  begun  now,"  as 
they  entered  the  fern  house  ;  "  is  not  this  worth  com 
ing  to  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,  surely,"  answered  Sidney.  Ferns  and  ferns 
and  ferns,  small  and  fine  as  lace  up  to  those  large  and 
coarse  as  palms.  Palms  as  fine  as  ferns,  canes  glossy 
and  luxuriant,  crotons  with  splashes  of  scarlet  and 
pale  yellow  and  emerald  green ;  orchids  that  would 
have  made  the  fortune  of  an  American  florist,  and 
many  strange,  uncanny  plants  that  Sidney  did  not 
recognize.  There  was  a  delight  in  being  there  for 
which  she  hardly  could  account,  and  was  it  the  sun 
light  filtering  down  through  the  palms  and  huge 
ferns  and  on  the  gleaming  goldfish  in  the  basin  of  the 
small  fountain,  or  the  band  in  the  distance  playing 
one  of  Schumann's  most  dangerously  sweet  melodies, 
or  the  soft  fragrance  in  the  air  about  them  that  made 
life  so  bi-ight  to  Carnton  just  then?  Or  was  it  the 
brown  eyes  so  full  of  earnotness  and  truth  lifted  to 
meet  his?  Or,  after  all,  was  it  the  consciousness, 
which  he  had  had  from  the  first  moment  he  had  seen 
her,  of  a  nature  perfectly  sympathetic  with  his  own? 

They  talked  a  little  of  the  plants  about  them,  and 
then  went  back  again  to  their  own  individual  work 
and  the  .special  incidents  of  the  week  ;  but  what  did 
the  subject  matter  when  both  felt  the  joy  two  natures 
of  a  generous  mold  feel  in  meeting? 


170  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

What  curious  creatures  we  human  beings  are! 
"What  is  our  best  strength  but  weakness?  We  may 
live  lives  that  are  noble,  and  such  as  our  whole 
natures,  guided  by  a  reason  that  is  in  subjection  to 
a  higher  power,  approve,  and  yet  in  the  details  of  that 
living  we  falter  and  grope  and  stumble  and  are  far 
from  sure  that  we  arc  right  unless  we  have  the  ap 
proval  of  other  beings  equally  faulty,  equally  fallible, 
and  ns  likely  to  be  wrong  as  ourselves.  And  when 
we  find  a  nature  that,  apart  from  volition  or  will,  is 
so  constituted  that  it  is  in  entire  sympathy  with  us, 
then  comes  a  sense  of  rest  and  peace  that  is  like  a 
benediction. 

It  was  thus  that  Carnton  felt ;  Sidney  was  a  bene 
diction  to  the  highest  and  best  of  his  nature.  And  he 
so  little  knew  what  it  meant  that  he  would  have 
been  surprised  had  others  not  felt  the  same.  So  sure 
was  he  that  her  superiority  was  apparent  to  all,  he 
would  have  been  surprised  had  anyone  criticised  her, 
and  he  would  have  taken  the  criticism  only  as  an  evi 
dence  of  the  person's  own  degeneracy. 

Others  came  into  the  fernery,  and  they  moved 
away  in  a  happy  dual  silence  that  can  only  come 
where  there  is  perfect  sympathy. 

Carnton  was  essentially  a  modern  missionary.  Had 
he  been  born  fifty  years  earlier  he  would  have  been 
a  pioneer,  who  would  have  broken  new  ground  and 
led  exploring  parties  and  planted  missions  in  new 
countries.  In  fact,  his  work  in  the  remote  mission 
station  in  the  mountains  had  been  much  of  that  type. 
lie  had  had  foundation  work  to  do  in  a  compara 
tively  new  place — primary  schools  to  organize,  native 
preachers  to  train  and  advise  and  reprimand,  accounts 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  171 

to  keep,  and,  what  lie  liked  better  than  all,  evangelistic 
work  in  villages. 

It  was  a  great  trial  to  give  it  up  and  come  to  the 
college  and  do  the  routine  work  of  teaching ;  yet  the 
very  pioneer  work  which  he  had  done  made  him  will 
ing  and  anxious  to  have  a  chance  to  train  men  to  be 
helpers;  for  he  had  been  so  hindered,  had  so  often 
been  foiled  in  his  plans  by  the  lack  of  trained  intelli 
gent  assistants,  so  often  disappointed  in  the  power  of 
his  native  preachers  to  grasp  fully  the  truth  they 
taught,  and  to  convev  to  others,  even  when  it  was 

O  «/ 

intelligible  to  themselves,  that  he  was  ready  to  spend 
years  in  training  minds  and  developing  character. 
People  who  have  around  them  and  have  had  back  of 
them  for  ages  a  Christian  civilization  can  have  sim 
ply  no  conception  whatever  of  the  deadening  effect  of 
priesthood  and  image-worship,  whether  of  the  Ro 
man  Catholic  Church  or  of  the  Hindoo  form  of  re 
ligion  on  the  hearts  and  minds  of  a  people  ;  for  the 
narrowness  of  outlook,  the  lack  of  comprehensiveness 
or  grasp  of  mind  it  engenders  is  appalling,  and  to 
counteract  these  tendencies  requires  patient,  unweary 
ing  teaching. 

o  o 

Though  the  heart  of  man  always,  when  quickened 
by  the  Holy  Spirit,  grasps  the  truths  of  the  Gospel  of 
Christ  gratefully,  the  mind  inactive  or  dormant  lags 
behind,  and  needs  food  and  training  and  up-building. 

Carnton,  though  he  knew  he  had  faults,  felt  he  had 
a  character  and  a  plan  for  work  and  for  making 
men  nobler  and  better  that  he  was  willing  to  impress 
on  other  young  men.  lie  was  strong  physically, 
mentally,  and  morally,  and  he  did  his  work  heartily, 
as  unto  God,  and  not  unto  man.  There  was  nothing 


1 1-1  THE  BISHOP^S  CONVERSION. 

ascetic  in  his  plan,  for  he  said  he  was  a  follower  of 
Christ,  who,  while  preaching  a  self-denying,  self-sacri 
ficing  life,  had  no  asceticism,  and  preached  none.  He 
walked  and  talked  as  though  life  were  full  of  interest,  as 
though  every  hour  were  worth  living,  and  as  though, 
through  the  grace  of  God,  he  was  not  only  master  of 
his  work  but  also  of  himself.  He  had  never  been  in 
love.  When  a  strong  feeling  of  admiration  had  come 
for  this  or  that  woman  he  had  put  it  down  or  ignored 
it  or  kept  away  from  the  person  that  inspired  it,  believ 
ing  that  discretion  in  such  matters  was  the  better 
part  of  valor,  as  he  had  no  wish  to  hamper  his  life- 
work  by  marrying.  Of  course,  like  other  men,  he 
had,  down  out  of  sight  in  his  heart,  an  ideal  woman 
whom  he  should  meet  some  day  and  on  whom  he 
would  pour  out  the  strength  of  a  heart  that  he  knew 
might  be  full  of  a  strong  and  worthy  and  enduring 
love  when  the  sweet  fair  unknown  should  dawn  on 
his  life.  But  not  in  India  was  she  going  to  be 
found.  Xot  any  strong-minded  lady  doctor  or  super 
intendent  of  a  girls'  school,  or  zenana  teacher,  who 
had  control  of  as  much  and  as  important  work  as  a 
man,  and  who  had  an  office  and  a  desk  where  she 
transacted  mission  business  and  interviewed  assistants 
and  planned  and  organized.  O,  no;  but  a  sweet, 
.shy,  household  goddess,  who  was  to  find  her  whole 
happy  sphere  in  her  home  and  the  simple  round  of 
home  duties. 

Of  course,  he  had  the  highest  respect  for  the  women, 
both  married  and  single,  wko  were  doing  a  work  that  no 
one  else  could  do,  and  without  whom  the  work  would 
progress  but  slowly,  and  he  understood  that  the  hus 
bands  of  the  married  lady  missionaries  were  making 


THK  VISIT  OF  THE  PBINOE.  173 

the  greatest  possible  sacrifice  in  allowing  their  wives 
to  give  their  whole  minds  and  strength,  growing  old 
before  their  time,  to  mission  work  ;  but  it  was  not  his 
plan,  for  some  way  it  had  never  seemed  quite  right  to 
him,  though  he  was  at  a  loss  to  say  just  where  it  was 
wrong. 

No,  not  in  India  was  the  home  of  his  heart  to  begin  ; 
but  some  day  lie  too,  like  others,  would  be  worn  out 
and  need  a  change,  and  then  he  would  go  back  home 
and  find  some  sweet  woman  who  would  complete  his 
life  and  give  him  in  exchange  love  for  love,  full 
measure  and  shaken  dowi^. 

This  interest  in  Sidney  only  struck  him  as  a  very 
common,  natural  sort  of  thing.  He  felt  that  if  he 
must  go  out  it  was  a  great  relief  to  have  one  so  sym 
pathetic  with  whom  to  spend  the  time,  and  beyond 
this  he  would  not  or  did  not  reflect,  and  did  not  see 
what  Mrs.  Clinton  saw — that  he  had  been  strangely 
silent  out  of  Sidney's  presence  since  the  first  day  he 
had  seen  her. 

The  long  shadows  of  the  tamarinds  stretched  farther 
and  farther  across  the  green  sward,  the  fronds  of  the 
palms  back  of  the  flat-roofed  Baradari  against  the  sun 
set  sky  began  to  look  soft  and  gray  and  more  feathery; 
the  statues  half  hidden  by  dark  green  shrubs  had  a 
cold  look,  and  flushes  died  away  from  the  cheeks  that 
had  glowed  under  the  fervid  sun,  and  perhaps  under 
other  glances  as  fervid. 

All  began  to  remember  that  the  day  was  not  half 
done,  and  still  the  prince  stayed.  The  missionary 
parties  began  to  melt  away  imperceptibly,  for  it  was 
not  etiquette  to  leave  openly  before  his  royal  highness. 
Probably  Mrs.  Clinton  left  the  most  willingly  of  all. 


174  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

She  did  not  like  all  this — that  is,  she  liked  it  well 
enough  for  herself,  for  it  was  quite  right  and  proper 
that  she  should  see  all  there  was  to  see;  but  a  garden 
party  in  the  afternoon  and  a  reception  in  the  evening 
of  the  same  day  were  too  much  for  missionaries.  It 
looked  too  much  like  the  ordinary  life  of  ministers  at 
home ;  and  if  it  went  on  this  way  the  whole  year 
what  material  would  she  have  with  which  to  make 
missionary  speeches? 

True,  there  was  nothing  very  frivolous  in  groups  of 
missionaries  dividing  into  twos  and  threes  and  wan 
dering  about  in  this  gay  scene  in  their  rusty  browns 
and  blacks,  like  an  unobtrusive  minor  melody  through 
the  symphony  of  color. 

She  had  also  found  that  they  were  like  Christian  in 
Pilgrim?*  Progress  •  they  always  carried  their  packs 
<3n  their  backs,  for  when  she  joined  different  groups 
here  and  there  they  were  invariably  talking  of  work, 
of  new  schools  or  of  old  scholars,  of  appointments ; 
and  there  seemed  a  general  disposition  to  get  each 
other's  opinions  that  surprised  her,  for  she  had  been 
saying  to  herself — not  to  her  husband,  you  may  be 
sure — that  the  missionaries  were  self-sufficient,  opin 
ionated,  and  altogether  too  well  satisfied  that  they 
were  right.  She  also  said  that  they  were  too  lively  ; 
there  was  too  much  of  a  tendency  to  look  at  the  ab 
surd  and  humorous  side  of  life,  to  tell  funny  anecdotes, 
and  to  seem  to  seek  occasion  to  laugh  and  be  amused. 

She  did  not  discover  that  this  resentment  toward 
them  began  with  her  little  disagreement  with  Mrs. 
Mackenzie,  and  was  intensified  every  time  she  made 
a  suggestion  to  anyone  that  was  shown  to  be  absurd, 
and  every  time  she  hit  the  wrong  nail  on  the  head. 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  175 

and  every  time  she  had  to  acknowledge  herself  beaten, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  cook  and  in  regard  to  the  wearing 
pith  hats.  She  had  a  distinct  feeling  of  being  out  of 
it  all  that  was  a  constant  irritation. 

The  strange  part  of  it  was  that  she  had  always 
thought  and  her  friends  had  said  of  her  that  she  cared 
nothing  for  position  and  deference  and  having  a 
leadership.  But  as  she  had  always  had  all  these,  who 
could  tell  how  much  she  cared  fur  them  until  she  was 
deprived  of  them  ?  It  is  said  we  are  eacli  made  up  of  a 
trinity  of  characters — that  is,  what  others  think  we  are, 
what  we  think  we  are,  and  what  we  really  are.  It  is  a 
curious  study  to  see  the  transition  from  the  person  made 
up  of  the  two  first,  to  the  nakedness  of  the  last,  and 
nowhere  can  it  be  seen  more  clearly  than  in  the  flitting 
of  a  person  from  one  civilization  to  another.  It  seems 
sometimes  to  involve  an  utter  change  of  nature,  though 
in  reality  it  is  only  a  sloughing  off  of  the  character  as 
cribed  to  them — it  is  only  the  tadpole,  that  would  have 
remained  forever  a  tadpole,  smothered  by  the  environ 
ment  of  position  and  convention,  emerging  into  the 
full-grown  frog;  and  the  patience  that  the  missionaries 
show  with  the  mistakes  made  by  those  "  fresh  in  the 
field  ?'  leads  the  thoughtful  to  suppose  that  their  own 
tadpole  experience  is  not  far  enough  removed  for  for- 
getfulness.  If  when  Mrs.  Clinton  was  watching  the 
missionaries  for  weak  places,  for  a  lack  of  heroic  en 
durance,  and  for  unnecessary  self-indulgences,  if  ever 
a  remote  suggestion  was  made  to  her  consciousness 
that  she  was  getting  to  be  a  different  person,  a  person 
that  she  did  not  like  as  well  as  the  Mrs.  Clinton  who 
had  been  amiable  and  popular  and  wise  in  America, 
she  dismissed  it  at  once,  saying  it  was  the  country 


176  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

that  was  different;  like  the  old  Indian  lost  in  the 
woods  :  "  Injun  not  lost,  wigwam  lost.  Injun  here," 
slapping  himself  on  his  breast. 

However,  as  time  went  on  she  was  less  sure  about 
the  "Injun,"  though  she  lamented  the  loss  of  the  wig 
wam.  Her  resentment  toward  Mrs.  Mackenzie  was 
also  a  curious  thing,  and  only  to  be  explained  by  the 
fact  that  it  is  easier  to  forgi-ve  people  anything  else  than 
the  injuries,  either  in  thought  or  deed,  that  we  do  them. 
But  she  kept  it  well  under,  and  it  amounted  only  to  a 
feeling  that  made  her  a  little  unhappy,  but  did  not  pre 
vent  her  being  on  friendly  terms  with  Mrs.  Mackenzie 
and  going  with  her  any  place  she  wished  to  take  her; 
and  so  after  the  garden  party  they  went  away  together 
to  a  native  Christian  women's  prayer  meeting  held  by 
Mrs.  Mackenzie. 

The  Bishop  had  found  several  native  gentlemen  who 
could  speak  English  and  one  or  two  who,  though  not 
speaking  it  very  well,  could  understand  it  and  stood 
by  interested  while  he  conversed  with  those  who  spoke 
more  fluently.  He  was  loading  himself  with  infor 
mation,  and  was  loath  to  go  when  Carnton  came  and 
reminded  him  that  he  had  promised  to  be  present  at 
the  college  students'  weekly  prayer  meeting. 

Sidney  also  had  hurried  off  to  meet  her  Bible 
women  and  prepare  the  Bible  lesson  for  the  next  day's 
teaching  in  the  zenanas.  Each  and  every  one  of  the  mis 
sion  log  had  some  especial  duty,  and  rushed  away  feel 
ing  he  must  work  all  the  harder  for  the  brief  idleness. 
Just  as  the  Bishop  and  Carnton  were  getting  into  the 
latter's  cart  Mr.  Miller  came  and  asked  them  to  drive 
to  Nola  Gange  and  see  Shew  Pershad,  the  boy-hus 
band  of  Sitara,  who  was  ill,  and  had  sent  for  him  to 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PKINCE.  177 

conic  and  see  him  ;  but  he  had  a  class  of  students 
in  English  which  he  could  not  well  postpone,  and 
would  ask  them  to  go  in  his  place.  So  they  drove 
away  as  fast  as  the  pony  could  take  them,  down  the 
one  English  business  street,  past  the  ruins  of  the 
old  Residency,  the  tower  of  which  showed  darkly 
against  the  afterglow  still  in  the  sky,  though  the  old 
cannon  of  mutiny  fame  at  its  base  was  lost  in  purple 
shadows. 

Talking  of  the  horrors  of  that  dreadful  time  and  of 
the  chances  of  its  ever  being  repeated,  they  were  soon 
at,  the  beginning  of  a  street  so  narrow  they  were 
obliged  to  leave  the  cart  and  walk  down  streets 
where  three  could  not  walk  abreast,  around  square 
corners,  past  tanks  and  drains  of  green  and  black 
water  that  made  them  hold  their  breath,  and  past 
many  high  mad  walls  in  which  were  small  wooden 
doors.  At  last  they  stopped  before  one  of  the  latter, 
and  Carnton,  rapping,  called  out  the  usual  question  : 
"Koi  hai?" 

Jt  was  quickly  opened  by  a  female  servant,  who 
asked  what  was  wanted. 

"It  is  I,  the  teacher  of  Shew  Pershad,  come  to  in 
quire  of  his  health  and  well-being." 

The  woman  salaamed  low  and  led  them  quickly  across 
one  corner  of  the  small  court  around  three  sides  of 
which  the  house  was  built  and  showed  them  into  a 
small  room,  empty  save  for  the  bed  on  which  the  boy 
lay  and  a  brass  lamp  in  a  niche  in  the  wall.  The  inex 
pressible  dreariness  of  the  Indian  home  never  struck 
Carnton  more  forcibly  than  now  as  he  took  Shew 
Pel-shad's  hand  in  his  and  said, 

"  What  is  it,  brother,  that  is  making  you.  so  ill  2 " 


178  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"Nothing,  only  fever.  I  am  very  glad  you  have 
come ;  I  knew  you  would,  and  I  want  Sitara  and  my 
mother." 

This  was  said  feebly  and  with  the  hesitating  utter 
ance  that  told  Cam  ton  the  fever  was  high,  even  before 
he  placed  his  hand  on  the  hot  forehead  and  felt  the 
heavy  throb  of  the  pulse. 

"What  has  the  doctor  said? — of  course  you  have  a 
doctor?"  The  last  was  said  anxiously,  for  he  well 
knew  the  native  dislike  to  any  road  to  recovery. 

"  I  wanted  the  doctor  of  the  hospital,  but  the  peo 
ple  here  in  the  house  said  no,  but  to  have  one  of  their 
witchcraft  men  to  come  and  practice  charms,  and  I 
had  neither." 

An  exclamation  of  impatient  disapproval  escaped 
Carnton,  and  he  said, 

"  I  will  see  your  cousins,"  and  went  out  quickly. 

The  Bishop  had  stood  silently  in  the  shadow  be 
yond  the  reach  of  the  dull  light  of  the  little  lamp,  but 
lie  came  forward  and  took  the  boy's  hot  hand  in  his, 
and  after  a  word  or  two  of  greeting — for  he  was  ac 
quainted  with  his  history — knelt  on  the  mud  floor  by 
the  rude  bed  and  prayed  earnestly  in  his  deep  and 
solemn  voice  for  the  recovery  of  health  and  for  peace 
of  mind  and  joy  of  heart  to  come  to  the  poor  sufferer 
before  him,  and  then  closed  with  the  holy  benedic 
tion,  which  fell  with  a  calming  force  on  the  troubled 
heart.  Though  Shew  Pershad's  knowledge  of  Eng 
lish  was  imperfect,  the  strength  and  power  of  the 
vigorous  Christian  man  by  his  bedside  impressed  itself 
and  his  heart  grasped  what  his  head,  dulled  with  fever, 
failed  to  comprehend. 

"  May  God  give  you  the  blessing  of  perfect  faith 


THE  VISIT  OF  THE  PRINCE.  179 

in  him,  and  in  his  Son  Jesus  Christ !  "  Oarnton,  who 
had  come  in  quickly,  translated,  as  She\v  Pershad  did 
not  quite  understand. 

"  He  has  given  it  to  me.  We  will  be  saved  from 
sin  and  from  transmigration,  both  I  and  Sitara,  and 
afterward  my  mother  perhaps.  The  great  Sacrifice 
saves  us.'' 

'"Amen,"  said  the  Bishop,  and  "Amen  "  said  Carnton 
in  his  heart.  Then  aloud  : 

"I  have  told  these  people  that  you  must  have  a 
doctor,  and  I  am  going  to  bring  him  at  once,  that 
there  may  be  no  mistake ; "  and  beckoning  to  the 
Bishop  they  went  out. 

When  they  were  outside  Carnton  said  : 

"  The  boy  is  very  ill,  and  unless  he  is  looked  after 
at  once  he  will  be  gone  almost  before  we  know  it. 
The  careless  way  the  natives  live,  tlieir  utter  disregard 
of  the  laws  of  health,  their  indifference  to  contagion, 
and  the  absence  of  animal  food,  make  them  swift  and 
easy  prey  to  any  disease  that  comes  along.  I  will 
drive  to  Miss  Whitlow's  and  ask  her  to  take  the  boy's 
wife  down  there  ;  for  at  least  she  will  be  some  com 
pany  for  him,  and  can  get  him  water  and  see  that  his 
food  is  brought  at  the  proper  time.  If  you  will  take 
entire  charge  of  the  prayer  meeting,  I  shall  be  greatly 
obliged.  Field  will  help  you." 

The  Bishop  promised,  and  the  doctor  came,  as  did 
also  Sitara.  Miss  Whitlow  brought  some  corn  flour 
and  arrowroot,  as  she  knew  that  probably  nothing 
had  been  given  him  but  curry  and  other  things  im 
possible  for  an  invalid. 

The  doctor's  opinion  was  not  given,  as  he  said  he 
must  wait  and  see  him  a<rain. 


ISO  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVKK.-ION. 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE  TALUKDAR'S  RECEPTION. 

IX  the  old  days  after  the  Mohammedan  conquest  of 
Hindostan,  when  Delhi  was  the  capital  and  the 
center  of  the  power  and  magnificence  of  the  Mogul 
empire,  Oude  was  one  of  the  twelve  "  subas,"  or  dis 
tricts,  into  which  the  conquered  territory  was  divided 
hy  the-Emperor  Akbar.  From  being  simply  a  "  siiba," 
with  a  governor  appointed  by  the  emperor,  it  was 
gradually  transformed  by  the  energy  and  ambition  of 
its  governors  into  something  like  a  state,  with  a  nawab 
wazir  at  its  head.  Later  on  the  nawabs  became  kings, 
and  Lucknow  their  capital,  where  they  had  a  court 
renowned  even  in  the  Orient  for  its  extravagance  and 
splendor.  Different  kings  built  palaces  for  them 
selves,  and  the  locality  where  the  principal  palaces  are 
congregated  is  called  "  Kaiser  Bagh,"  from  the  fact 
that  one  of  the  kings  said  he  would  form  a  dynasty 
after  the  plan  of  the  Caesars,  but  which  should  rival 
theirs.  Now  only  old  palaces  used  for  various  gov 
ernment  offices,  for  club  libraries  and  museums,  and 
the  name  "  kaiser  " — a  corruption  of  Caesar — remain 
to  tell  of  his  foiled  hopes  and  ambitions.  The  largest 
of  all,  the  old  zenana  palace,  built  by  Wazid  AH  Shah, 
the  last  reigning  king,  for  his  thousand  wives,  is  a 
huge  structure  extending  originally  around  four  sides 
of  a  park  in  which  were  pleasure-houses,  pavilions. 


THE*  TALUKDAK'S  RECEPTION.  181 

fountains,  shrines,  and  a  small  lake  over  which  was 
thrown  a  bridge.  It  is  indeed  a  huge  palace,  but  a 
large  one  was  necessary,  that  each  woman  could  have 
a  suite  of  rooms  for  herself  and  servants. 

"When  Wazid  Ali  Shah  was  transferred  to  Calcutta, 
Oude  taken  from  him  and  annexed  to  the  British  ter 
ritory,  the  women  were  scattered  far  and  wide,  and 
now  part  of  the  palace  is  empty  and  part  rented  to 
various  people  who  choose  to  live  there,  and  the  prin 
cipal  pleasure-house  in  the  inclosed  park,  owned  by 
the  Maharani  of  Balrampore,  has  come  to  be  the  place 
where  the  native  princes,  or  "  talukdars,"  give  their 
receptions.  This  is  called  the  White  Baradari,  and 
consists  of  a  house  with  several  large  rooms  built  well 
up  from  the  ground.  The  large,  lofty  central  room 
is  supported  by  pillars ;  around  this  are  side  rooms, 
and  if  more  space  is  needed  the  wide  arched  verandas, 
which  are  arrived  at  by  flights  of  steps,  are  inclosed. 
The  building  has  the  appearance  of  being  of  white  mar 
ble,  though  only  the  finishings  are  of  this,  and  when 
lighted  and  filled  with  people  it  has  a  most  splendid 
appearance. 

As  the  Bishop,  Mrs.  Clinton,  Miss  Whitlow,  and 
Miss  May  drove  in  at  one  of  the  great  gates  the  park 
was  a  blaze  of  light,  and  the  roads  and  walks  were  one 
mass  of  moving  humanity. 

Miss  May,  the  Bishop,  and  his  wife  were  all  going 
to  this  reception  for  the  same  reason — that  is,  because 
they  had  never  been ;  and  Miss  Whitlow  was  going  be 
cause  she  had  been  before,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  preferred 
having  some  one  with  her  who  knew  the  etiquette  of 
the  place ;  but  most  of  the  missionaries  had  found  it 
impossible  to  come  from  one  reason  or  another. 


'182  TlIK    UlSHOp's    Co 

The  sides  of  the  zenana  palace  had  been  covrivil 
with  bamboo  lattice-work,  the  driveway.-  were  fenced 
with  the  same  about  three  feet  high,  and  in  the  cor 
ner  of  each  square  formed  by  the  intersecting  bamboo 
was  a  little  terra  cotta  cup  with  about  an  ounce  of  oil 
and  a  lighted  wick. 

Over  the  gateway  opposite  to  the  one  used  as  an 
entrance  lights  formed  words  which  blazed  a  welcome. 
The  trees  and  shrines  were  hung  with  colored  lanterns, 
and  the  walks  and  drives  were  filled  with  natives  and 
some  Europeans,  baboos,  teachers  and  merchants  and 
clerks ;  in  fact,  all  the  great  mass  of  the  population 
were  out  to  see  the  Walayati  prince  that  they  thought 
might  in  the  years  to  come  bring  them  weal  or  woe, 
but  whose  death  knell  has  since  sounded  around  the 
whole  world,  which  thrilled  with  sympathy  for  the 
grief-stricken  mother;  to  see  also  their  own  princes  in 
all  the  glory  of  their  richest  clothes,  and  last  and  least 
the  bold  Mem  Sahibs  who  came  with  uncovered  heads 
and — it  wras  reported — uncovered  necks  and  shoulders. 
Policemen  in  their  red  pugris  cleared  the  way  before 
them,  and,  leaving  their  wraps  in  the  carriage  and 
showing  their  cards  of  invitation  to  the  sergeant 
stationed  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  they  went  up  the 
red  carpeted  steps  between  two  rows  of  soldiers  stand 
ing  as  stiff  and  straight  as  statues,  the  light  pouring 
through  the  open  doors  gleaming  on  the  bayonets  at 
their  sides. 

Mrs.  Clinton's  party  had  come  early,  hoping  to  get 
away  a  little  earlier  by  so  doing,  and  they  selected  a 
seat  where  they  could  observe  well  without  seeming 
unduly  curious.  Few  English  wore  yet  present,  but 
many  of  the  native  swells  had  arrived  ;  only  princes. 


THK  TALUKDAR'S  TIKCKPTION.  lS.'> 

of  course — not  a,  princess  in  ull  the  nnniber  could  ap 
pear.  They,  the  princesses  and  native  ladies,  were 
already  asleep  at  home  dreaming  of  the  glories  their 
lords  were  seeing,  and  hoping  for  a  full  description  of 
the  festivity  when  they  should  once  more  have  left 
Lucknow  and  entered  their  elephant  howdahs  or  their 
bullock-carts  for  their  palaces  in  the  various  parts  of 
Onde,  and  when  the  tediousness  of  the  journey  should 
be  relieved  by  hearing  what  had  happened  in  their 
visit  to  Lucknow.  The  princes  were  dressed  much  as 
the\T  were  at  the  garden  party — velvet  and  gold,  dia 
monds,  rubies,  and  emeralds,  and  the  light  blazing 
from  the  chandeliers  was  reflected  from  all  this,  and 
blazed  and  bragged  of  the  wealth  of  the  small  princi 
palities'  represented.  They  talked  little,  but  stood 
about  watching  others  come — now  and  then  a  party 
of  English,  now  and  then  some  natives;  but  soon  the 
stream  of  people  became  continuous — here  a  matron, 
well  satisfied  that  the  daughters  following  her  were 
all  one  could  wish,  from  fair  hair  banged  low  over 
their  foreheads  to  evening  dresses  made  by  native 
men  ;  behind  them  a  rajah  with  his  fingers  covered 
with  flashing  jewels  which  were  repeated  and  multi 
plied  on  his  turban  and  on  his  belt,  or  kamarband  ; 
then  the  handsome  face  and  figure  of  the  MTife  of 
the  general  commanding  the  division,  followed  by  the 
fair-haired  wife  of  the  commissioner,  and  the  homely 
face  of  the  surgeon  general's  wife  ;  then  a  party  of  mis 
sionaries  with  their  high-necked,  long-sleeved  dresses, 
looking  very  foreign  and  out  of  place  among  the  bare 
arms  and  shoulders  of  the  other  women.  They  were 
followed  by  Lady  Huff  and  Lady  Puff,  and  colonels  and 
captains  and  judges  without  number,  and  their  wives. 


181  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

Then  the  band  struck  up,  and  there  was  a  rattle  of 
arms,  a  general  movement,  and  a  Government  House 
party  appeared,  the  prince  walking  with  the  governor, 
who  looked  perfectly  fagged,  and  only  kept  up  by  the 
knowledge  that  this  was  the  last  "  tamasha  "  on  the 
list,  and  a  few  more  hours  would  see  the  end  of  the 
ticklish  business  he  had  on  hand. 

The  prince  only  looked  a  little  more  tired  than 
ever,  doubtfully  watching  his  keeper  as  to  plan  of 
procedure.  The  usual  address  was  given  by  the 
talukdars  and  responded  to  briefly,  and  then  the  fire 
works  began  with  their  customary  rush  and  fuss  and 
explosions. 

The  native  of  India  loves  fireworks.  Their  light, 
their  flash,  and  their  cheapness  suit  him ;  he  revels 
in  them  and  cheerfully  goes  without  food,  tightens  his 
kamarband  to  make  up  for  the  loss,  and  is  happy  in 
watching  them  as  they  flash  for  a  moment  and  are 
gone. 

The  prince  and  his  party  were  in  a  draped  balcony, 
and  those  who  were  not  near  him  tried  to  get  near 
some  one  that  was  near  him. 

Again  Carnton,  who  had  done  all  possible  for  Shew 
Pershad,  is  near  Sidney.  She  is  unthinking,  he  is 
unthinking,  but  both  are  elated  and  happy.  He  be 
gins  to  be  sure  it  is  a  good  thing  for  a  missionary  to 
leave  his  work  and  go  out  now  and  then  among 
people;  it  brightens  him  up  so  much.  He  had  no 
habit  of  introspection,  else  he  would  have  tracked 
this  feeling  to  its  source.  But  his  healthy,  hearty, 
strong  nature  let  him  live  and  move  and  have  his 
being  without  hunting  down  all  his  feelings  and  sen 
sations.  Herein,  however,  lay  danger  to  his  plan  for 


Tin:  TAI.TKDAK'S  RECEPTION.  185 

nis  life-work.  So  they  talked,  standing  near  Mrs. 
Clinton  and  the  Bishop  and  Miss  Whitlow,  the  Bishop 
moralizing  on  various  things,  asking  how  the  money 
for  the  entertainment  was  provided,  who  kept  up  the 
park,  to  whom  the  old  palace  and  the  Baradari  be 
longed,  all  of  which  Miss  Whitlow  answered,  drawing 
Sidney  into  the  conversation.  Then  Carnton  wan 
dered  away.  There  was  a  nawab  he  wished  to  see, 
whose  opinion  he  wanted  on  some  question  the  Bishop 
had  asked,  and  he  mingled  with  the  rajahs  and  nawabs 
in  order  to  find  him.  Standing  here  and  there  in  the 
semi-darkness  he  overheard  bits  of  conversation  per 
taining  to  the  prince — like  this  : 

"When  the  queen  dies,  then  her  son  will  come  to 
the  throne;  but  he  is  ill,  and  if  this  prince  becomes 
interested  in  us  it  will  pay  us  for  all." 

From  another  group : 

''It  is  costing  too  much;  the  price  is  very  heavy. 
Once  the  viceroy  comes,  as  he  leaves  India,  and  we 
give  him  a  tamasha ;  once  the  new  viceroy  comes,  as 
he  enters  India,  and  we  give  him  a  tamasha.  Now 
the  prince  comes  and  we  give  him  a  tamasha,  all  in 
one  year.  It  is  too  heavy." 

"True,  true,  but  what  will  you  do?  They  must 
conic." 

Then  below  this  he  heard  the  soft,  deep  voice  of  his 
friend  Sycd  Mohammed  Khan,  "Yes,  yes,  they  are 
different ; "  and  then  a  voice  from  a  shorter,  younger 
figure,  whom  a  flash  of  rocket  showed  to  be  his  son, 
still  a  boy,  but  Carnton  remembered  having  been  bid 
den  to  his  wedding,  which  was  to  come  off  next  month. 

"But  the  English — they  wish  our  women  to  be 
like  theirs.  The  Miss  Sahib  who  comes  to  teach 


186  THE  Uisiioi-V  (  '<>\\  i:i;>h>.\. 


mother  and  my  sisters  tells  them  of  many  thing's  that 
English  \vomen  do  ;  they  go  about  alone,  and  are 
never  afraid.  If  our  women  learn  to  read  and  write 
will  they  also  want  to  put  away  their  chuddars  and 
go  about  with  uncovered  heads  in  their  carriages  like 
these  women  to-night,  and  also  uncovered  shoulders  ?  " 

"!N'o,  you  do  not  understand,  my  son.  The  Miss 
Sahib  is  here,  but  she  is  not  like  these.  The  mission 
people,  did  you  not  see,  are  covered.  I  do  not  myself 
understand  all  their  ways.  In  the  blessed  time  when 
the  King  Wazid  AH  was  still  here  and  glory  was 
everywhere  present  I  thought  them  bad  and  danger 
ous.  I  feared  our  women  seeing  them  would  be  less 
amenable  to  our  authority,  and  would  go  about  the 
streets  and  talk  with  other  men  than  their  husbands, 
but  not  so.  I  have  now  these  many  years  known  the 
mission  people,  and  they  make  our  women  better. 
They  give  them  something  to  do  and  make  them  less 
like  children." 

"  But  to-day  even  the  Miss  Mellen  Sahib,  she  walks 
about  among  all  the  people  with  our  Carnton  Sahib, 
and  talks  and  smiles.  She  also  teaches  our  women  in 
the  zenanas,  but  it  can  never  be  that  we  allow  our 
women  thus  to  talk  to  men." 

"  They  are  different,  and  with  different  customs, 
and  among  them  it  is  allowed  that  they  converse  often 
with  each  other  when  they  are  to  marry.  It  is  a  good 
way,  for  then  they  know  each  the  mind  and  disposi 
tion  of  the  other,  and  can  more  easily  be  happy 
together.-" 

Carnton  came  forward  quickly. 

"  Forgive  me,  Xawab  Sahib,  I  have  been  hearing 
what  you  have  said  to  your  son.  I  am  glad  you  see 


THE  TALUKDAK'S  RK(  KPTIO.X.  187 

so  clearly.  Were  all  your  people  as  clear-sighted, 
the  Hindoos  would  not  now  have  outstripped  you  in 
the  matter  of  education  and  government  positions." 

"  True  words,  Padri  Carnton,  but  there  is  a  better 
time  coining  for  us.  When  our  women  can  teach  their 
sons  something  besides  ghost  stories  and  old  women's 
tales  there  is  hope  for  us,  for  the  Mussulman  is  ever 
a  cleverer  man  than  the  Hindoo.  The  children  of  this 
my  son  will  see  it  and  partake  of  it,  for  has  not  the 
good  Miss  Lowe  Sahib  taught  his  future  wife  for 
many  years  I  and  she  is  bright  and  quick  to  see  and 
think.  You  will  not  forget  that  you  are  to  come  to 
his  wedding  next  month  '.  " 

'•  O,  no  ;  I  could  not  forget  it,  my  friend.  If  I 
am  well'I  shall  surely  be  there,  and  if  you  would  not 
mind  I  would  like  to  bring  the  Bara  Padri  Sahib  and 
his  wife,  who  have  come  from  America  to  see  India 
and  her  people.  He  is  very  interested  in  all  your 
national  customs." 

"  By  all  means  ;  we  shall  be  very  happy  indeed." 

Carnton  bid  him  good-night  and  followed  the  stream 
of  people  who  were  entering  the  side  rooms,  where 
tables  were  spread  with  refreshments,  soda-water, 
lemonade,  coffee,  tea,  cakes,  jellies,  sweets,  and,  Carn 
ton  saw  with  a  pang,  wines.  The  aversion  with  which 
lie  had  always  looked  on  the  use  of  wine  in  India 
amounted  to  extreme  intolerance.  Joining  the 
Bishop,  who  was  having  a  cup  of  coffee  in  a  small 
room  with  the  other  missionaries,  he  said  in  fierce  in 
dignation  : 

"  We  show  them  a  better  religion  and  a  higher 
civilization,  and  then  men  and  women  calling  them 
selves  Christians  practice  things  that  a  good  Mussul- 


188  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVKKSIOX. 

man  thinks  beneath  him.  He  would  die  before  he 
would  allow  his  wife  or  daughters  to  be  seen  dressed 
as  some  women  here  are  dressed,  and  he  would  con 
sider  himself  unworthy  of  the  religion  of  Mohammed 
if  he  drank  wine." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  it  is  one  of  the  serious 
drawbacks." 

"Drawbacks!  It  is  worse,  it  is  almost  hopeless  to 
try  to  teach  them  Christ  when  they  think  they  must 
do  these  things  if  they  become  followers  of  his.  A 
Mohammedan  said  once  to  me:  '  Is  your  religion  bet 
ter?  I  think  not.  I  see  everyday  Christians  reeling 
through  the  bazars.  Shall  we  also  have  to  drink  wine 
when  you  have  converted  us?'  Of  course  it  was 
said  in  derision." 

"The  Hindoos,  I  believe,  have  no  objection  to 
wine  ? " 

"No,  though  they  also  connect  wine-drinking  with 
Christianity.  A  young  Hindoo,  bright  arid  keen, 
came  to  me  one  day  and  said  : 

"'I  am  English.     Give  me  work.' 

"'English?'  I  said,  'how  is  that?  I  would  not 
have  taken  you  to  be  English.' 

"  '  Look  at  my  clothes,  are  they  not  English  ?  I 
drink  wine,  and  I  say  "  damn.'"  Sometimes  I  feel  as 
though  I  cannot  restrain  my  indignation  ;  I  think  I 
have  seen  all  there  is  to  be  seen,  and  I  will  go,  for  I 
have  had  enough  of  this  side  of  life  ; "  and  with  a 
hasty  good  night  to  all  he  left  and  went  home  to 
think. 

lie  had  ignored  the  nawab's  remark  on  his  atten 
tion  to  Sidney,  but  that  did  not  mean  he  had  not 
heard  and  understood,  nor  did  it  mean  that  he  did 


•fiiK  TALUKDAK'S  RECEPTION.  ISO 

not  feel  as  though  he  had  had  a  small  shock  of  earth 
quake. 

lie  told  himself  that  he  had  been  careless  in  forget 
ting  that  all  he  did  was  of  great  interest  to  his  native 
friends;  that  they,  with  their  civilization,  could  not 
comprehend  the  motives  that  underlay  tho  actions  of 
a  European  ;  that  of  course  they  could  not  understand 
that  although  he  did  not  wish  to  marry  in  India  lie 
craved  friends,  and  it  would  be  hard  indeed  if  lie 
could  not  have  such  a  sweet  friend  as  Miss  Mellen 
simply  because  they  could  not  understand  there  might 
be  friendship  between  men  and  women.  lie  told 
himself  this  and  much  more  of  the  same  kind,  but  it 
did  not  prevent  him  from  being  unconsciously  joyful 
at  the  thought  of  a  possibility  of  her  caring  for  him, 
at  the  thought  of  their  names  being  connected  in  that 
way,  and  he  be^an  to  wonder  if  the  nawab  had  seen 
anything  in  her  face  or  manner  to  lead  him  to  the 
startling  conclusion  at  which  he  had  arrived,  which 
was  a  decided  wandering  from  the  point  on  which  he 
wished  to  think.  That  point  was  how,  without  injury 
to  her,  to  disabuse  the  minds  of  his  native  friends  of 
the  thought  of  anvthinsj  serious  between  him  and  Sid- 

o  v  o 

ney ;  but  some  way  he  could  not  keep  his  mind  where-he 
wanted  it.  It  would  dwell  on  the  varying  color  in  her 
face,  of  her  devotion  to  her  work,  of  the  difference 
between  her  and  all  other  women  he  knew,  and  even 
on  such  trifles  as  the  color  of  her  bonnet,  and  her  in 
terest  in  and  love  of  flowers.  He  wondered  if  he 
might  not  now  and  then  send  her  some  as  a  friend, 
which  was  a  decided  step  in  the  wrong  direction,  if  he 
wished  to  remain  in  single-eyed  devotion  to  his  work. 
There  was  a  group  of  servants  outside  the  cook 


190  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

house,  with  their  pugris  off  and  sitting,  so  to  speak, 
in  slippers  and  shirt-sleeves,  which  for  a  native  means 
a  good  deal  more,  or  rather  a  good  deal  less.  The 
hookah  was  being  passed  around,  and  in  a  little  way 
off  were  two  or  three  others  gathered  listening  to 
some  one  playing  on  a  sitar. 

Their  voices  were  perfectly  distinct  to  Carnton  as 
he  lay  on  his  bed  in  the  room  above  them,  but  he  paid 
no  attention  until  his  own  name  was  mentioned. 

"  Yes,  Carnton  Sahib  is  good  enough,  since  one 
must  have  a  sahib,  but  then  you  see  he  has  his  gods 
also,  as  we  do,  which  accounts  for  his  pleasant  dispo 
sition  "  (kush  mezagh). 

Carnton  raised  his  head  in  astonishment  and  won 
dered  if  he  had  heard  aright. 

"  Ou,  Bala  Ram,  do  you  think  we  are  babies  that 
you  tell  us  this  ?  Xo  sahibs  have  their  gods  as  \ve  do. 
They  are  followers  of  Jesus  Christ." 

"But  I  tell  you,"  said  Bala  Ram  with  conviction, 
"  he  has.  There  is  one,  Shnton,  whose  house  is  on 
the  mantel,  and  there  is  another,  Oiner,  who  wrote 
one  of  Carnton  Sahib's  sacred  books.  He  also  sits 
over  the  fire.  It  is  that  they  perhaps  are  the  gods  of 
fire,  only  Shnton  is  the  American  god  and  not  the 
English?' 

Carnton  was  shaking  his  bed.  Washington  and 
Homer  come  to  be  the  gods  of  fire,  along  with  Agni ! 
It  was  so  funny  that  he  could  hardly  stop  to  listen. 

"  It  may  be  true,  but  the  English  and  the  Ameri 
cans — who  can  tell,  with  all  their  mad  ways? — 
who  can  tell  what  they  worship  ?  There  is  this 
thing  at  least  that  is  true,  the  mission  people  all 
worship  chairs,  for  do  they  not  always,  when  at  their 


THE  TALUKD Ait's  RECEPTION.  191 

morning  puja,  kneel  to  their  chairs,  their  faces  lifted 
toward  them  ?  And  also  our  people,  when  they  be 
come  Christians,  do  they  not  at  once  purchase  chairs 
and  put  them  in  their  houses  that  they  also  may  kneel 
to  them  ?  And  you  see  how  much  kinder  and  better 
these  sahibs  are  who  have  chair-worship  than  the  sol 
dier  people  who  never  have  any  gods.  Your  words 
are  true,  and  it  is  far  better  to  have  service  with  such 
as  are  rational  and  have  gods  as  \ve  do." 

There  was  a  silence  then,  broken  only  by  the  sound 
of  the  water  in  the  basin  of  the  hookah,  and  the  sick 
ening  odor  of  the  smoke  filled  the  air  while  Carnton 
marveled  anew  at  the  power  of  the  native  mind  to 
draw  original  and  startling  conclusions  from  the  sim 
plest  and  most  ordinary  acts,  and  he  resolved  that  before 
another  sun  set  "Shnton"  and  ''Oilier"  should  alike  be 
broken  in  a  thousand  pieces;  and  with  this  was  min 
gled  a  little  indignation  that  Bala  Ham,  who  had  been 
with  him  for  two  years,  should  so  misunderstand  him. 

lie  was  just  falling  to  sleep  when  Roke wood's 
name  floated  up. 

"  Yes,  Rokewood  Sahib  is  quite  out  of  his  mind  ; 
though  thev  are  all  out  of  their  minds,  as  far  as  tlr.it 

O  «  7 

goes,  and  Rokewood  Sah'b  is  only  a  little  queerer 
than  the  rest." 

"  That  is  as  I  said,  brother.  It  is  all  one,  and  he 
is  a  good  sahib,  though  he  is  of  low  caste  and  without 
the  proper  respect  a  sahib  should  have.  It  is,  of  a 
surety,  that  he  is  of  the  carpenter  or  sweeper  caste." 

'*  Hear  the  words  of  our  brother  the  wise."  said 
Dabe  Din,  in  derision.  "  He,  without  doubt,  has  been 
to  the  sahib's  country,  and  hence  can  tell  of  what 
caste  the  sahib  people  are." 


192  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  But  no — "  a  little  abashed  at  the  laugh  which 
followed  the  last  speech  ;  "  but  even  the  blind  can  see 
that  he  is  of  low  caste,  else  why  did  not  the  Lord 
Sahib  call  him  to-day  to  the  tamasha  to  see  the  son  of 
the  great  queen  ?  and,  also,  why  does  he  have  a 
sweeper  cook,  and  why  should  he  carry  his  own  bag, 
and  why  will  not  the  other  sahibs  allow  him  to  ride 
in  their  garis?  Though  they  will  let  him  put  his  bag 
in  the  gari,  Rokewood  Sahib  himself  is  not  allowed, 
he  is  of  such  low  degree." 

"  True,"  said  Dabc  ;  "  bnt  now  the  sweeper  cook  is 
a  Christian.  Still,  who  can  tell  what  all  these  strange 
men  mean?  Xot  I,  surely/' 

When  Carnton,  before  going  to  work  the  next  day, 
made  a  pretense  of  clearing  his  room,  and  cleared 
out  old  newspapers  and  various  other  things  that  ac 
cumulate  in  a  bachelor's  room,  and  also  threw  those 
marble  busts  far  out  toward  the  cookhouse  so  ener 
getically  that  they  broke  in  many  pieces,  he  found 
out  that  they  all  trembled  with  fear,  saying, 

"For  once  our  pleasant-natured  sahib  must  be 
angry,  O,  very  angry  indeed,  when  he  thus  would 
smash  and  destroy  his  gods."  And  for  days  they  did 
their  work  with  care  and  fear  and  trembling. 

Then  was  his  soul  for  a  time  filled  with  despair. 
The  utter  impossibility  of  their  ever  coming  to  any 
understanding  of  the  truth  seemed  to  come  over 
him  like  a  wave  of  the  sea — of  the  impossibility 
of  men  of  such  low  intelligence  ever  being  brought 
out  into  light;  and  he  had  to  recall,  in  order  to  cheer 
himself  up,  some  of  the  marvelous  instances  of  those 
that  had  increased  in  intelligence  after  being  con 
verted,  and  he  could  name  among  them  hundreds  of 


A    NATIVK    1'RKACHKR. 


"AYAH,"  OK  NATIVK 


YOC.NG  BOY. 


NATITE    WOMAN. 


THE  TALUKDAR'S  RECEPTION.  198 

men  he  was  glad  and  proud  to  know  were  called 
Christians. 

Not  sleeping  well,  he  rose  early  and  again  took  the 
doctor  down  to  Shew  Pershad.  Just  why  he  felt  un 
easy  and  troubled  about  his  young  friend  he  could  not 
say  ;  but  there  was  no  doubt  that  he  was  decidedly 
uneasy,  for  all  through  the  festivities  of  the  night  be 
fore,  and  even  through  these  startling  thoughts  of 
Sidney,  every  now  and  again  the  fever-bright  eyes 
and  pinched  face  of  the  boy  rose  before  him. 

It  takes  about  a  minute  and  a  half  to  form  a  lasting 
friendship  with  any  of  the  people  of  India,  provided 
the  conditions  are  right,  and  the  conditions  had  been 
in  favor  of  Carnton  and  Shew  Pershad  being  friends, 
for  Carnton  had  heard  of  the  Lochinvar-like  raid  the 
Ivy  had  made  when  determined  to  have  his  wife  re 
moved  from  the  narrowing  influences  which  sur 
rounded  her,  and  was  ready  to  give  him  warm-hearted 
sympathy.  This  was  repaid  with  something  like 
adoration  from  Shew  Pershad,  to  whom  the  tall,  vig 
orous  frame,  the  fair  hair  and  eyes,  the  genial,  mag 
netic  presence  of  Carnton  were  almost  godlike,  and 
from  knowing  him  he  said  he  could  better  see  how 
Jesus  Christ,  who  was  strong  and  powerful,  could 
care  for  each  and  every  one;  for  if  he,  a  human  being, 
could  be  so  good,  how  much  more  was  it  possible  for 
a  divine  being,  for  Carnton  was,  after  all,  only  human, 
and  not  divine. 

Most  people  liked  Shew  Pershad.  He  had  a  brave, 
simple  way  of  meeting  the  truth  gladly  ;  in  fact,  he 
seemed  sometimes  to  divine  it  where  others  would 
only  see  a  mist  of  falsehood.  It  was  a  sharp  blow  to 
Carnton  when  the  doctor  said  that  there  was  little 


194:  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

chance  of  recovery  unless  some  unexpected  turn  of 
the  fever  came  soon.  Still,  though  it  was  a  shock, 
yet  some  way  it  was  not  unexpected.  He  was  not  so 
much  surprised  as  filled  with  sorrow. 

Remaining  a  while  to  look  after  him,  he  learned 
from  Sitara  that  the  witchcraft  man  had  been  there, 
unknown  to  the  patient,  and  had  gone  through  his 
performances  and  tried  the  quality  of  his  various 
charms,  but  ascribed  their  ineffectiveness,  as  did  also 
their  priest,  to  the  fact 'of  his  having  become  a  Chris 
tian,  the  gods  being  too  angry  at  this  to  relent. 

When  the  people  in  the  house,  who  were  distant  re 
lations  and  not  at  all  fond  of  the  boy,  saw  he  was 
sure  to  die,  they  wanted,  after  the  usual  custom,  to 
take  up  the  bed  and  carry  it  down  by  the  Gumti  and 
let  him  die  there  by  the  sacred  river.  But  his 
cousins  said  they  would  have  no  such  thing  done  ;  it 
belonged  to  the  old  days  of  ignorance  and  barbarism, 
and  they  hinted  that  the  doctor,  who  was  a  good  Hindoo, 
would  have  something  to  say  about  it,  and  would 
probably  make  trouble  ,if  they  persisted,  for  he  had 
studied  under  an  English  doctor,  and,  besides,  got  his 
pay  from  the  English  government.  The  people  did 
not  like  it;  these  new  days  and  new  ways  were  not 
for  them;  it  was  unlucky  tcr  have  a  person  die  in  the 
house,  and  much  more  unlucky  for  a  wretched  Chris 
tian,  who  was  now  suffering  from  the  anger  of  their 
god.  Their  family  priest,  a  fat,  well-fed  old  fellow, 
and  well  paid  by  the  family,  which  was  not  pool1, 
tried  to  force  them,  and  there  was  much  discussion; 
but  the  cousins  held  firm  and  said  they  would  report 
to  the  judge ;  so  poor  Shew  Pershad  was  allowed  to 
die  in  peace,  and  Sitara,  hardly  knowing  the  meaning 


THE  TALUKDAR'S  RECEPTION.  195 

of  death  or  bereavement,  wept  as  she  saw  her  mother- 
in-law  and  her  mother,  who  had  arrived,  M-eeping.  It 
had  been  a  sore  trial  to  them  when  their  son  and  son- 
in-law  became  a  Christian,  and  this  was  the  thing 
they  might  have  expected,  and  the  priest  strengthened 
this  belief  by  repeating  many  proverbs  and  quoting 
from  old  traditions.  When  the  priest  governs  the 
family,  whether  lie  be  Hindoo,  guru,  or  Roman  Catho 
lic  padre,  superstition  is  the  whip  by  which  he  con 
trols,  and,  strange  to  say,  women,  who  are  always 
credited  with  such  correct  instincts  and  intuitions, 
are  easily  led  where  the  superior  judgment  of  men 
rebels. 

Both  Carnton  and  Miller  visited  Shew  Pershad,  and 
gave  hhn  words  of  comfort,  and  he  brightened  much 
as  the  end  drew  near.  He  told  Carnton  of  the  plan  he 
had  had  to  go  back  to  his  village  and  teach  them  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  and  with  this  also  to  teach  them 
civilization,  better  ways  to  till  their  ground,  to  pro 
vide  against  famine,  and  better  ways  of  building 
their  houses ;  he  had  thought  of  it  all,  and  it  was 
hard  to  give  it  up;  but  Sitara,  she  was  so  quick,  so  in 
telligent,  so  gentle,  she  might  go  if  she  were  trained. 
It  was  his  wish  for  her  to  stay  in  some  mission 
school  until  she  had  learned  much,  and  then  go  back 
and  tell  them  from  him  all  the  truth.  He  was  too 
weak  to  think  or  to  be  spoken  to  about  all  the  diffi 
culties  in  the  way  ;  but  Carnton  promised  to  see  Miss 
Whitlow  and  have  all  done  as  he  wished,  if  possible. 
He  then  asked  that  he  might  be  buried  as  a  Christian, 
and  the  next  night  the  gentle  spirit  passed  away.  It 
was  sad,  yet  Carnton  felt  g*ad  he  had  known  him, 
glad  that  he  himself  was  there  to  help  just  such  rare 


196  Tin-;  BISHOP'S  C<>NVKU<H>\. 

simple  natures,  and  it  gave  him  more  hope  than  ever 
for  the  people  he  loved. 

AVhen  he  spoke  of  Shew  Pershad's  wishes  the 
cousins  told  him  it  would  be  impossible.  The  mother 
was  satisfied  to  consider  him  back  in  caste,  as  cere 
monies  had  been  performed  over  him,  unknown  to 
him,  before  his  death.  The  family  would  not  hear 
of  it,  and  declared  they  would  appeal  to  the  law, 
as  the  mother  was  perfectly  rabid  already,  and  there 
would  only  be  a  disgraceful  hand-to-hand  encounter 
if  the  Christians  persisted;  and  so  it  came  that  a  strag 
gling  procession  in  the  old  Hindoo  style  followed  the 
bod}"  wrapped  in  a  new  white  sheet  and  placed  on  a 
litter.  There  were  in  the  procession  all  the  relations 
and  many  of  their  caste,  and  there  were  a  loud  drum 
and  cymbals  and  a  horn  or  two,  and  much  wild  wail 
ing  of  voices  crying,  "Ram,  Ram,  ki  jai." 

As  Miss  Whitlow  watched  them  pass  by  her  house, 
the  hot  wind  whirling  clouds  of  dust  about  them,  the 
dreariness  of  it  all  came  over  her  anew,  dreary  from 
the  sound,  dreary  from  its  being  forced,  and  most 
dreary  of  all  because  of  the  entire  mockery  it  was  in 
being  done  for  one  who,  had  he  been  alive,  would 
have  repudiated  it  all. 

Though  it  was  a  long  way  to  the  burning  ghat  by 
the  Gumti  their  voices  did  not  tire,  but  mingled  with 
the  wail  of  the  wind  as  it  rushed  madly  down  the  hot, 
partially  dry  river-bed,  over  the  square-built  funeral 
pyre  that  stood  stolidly  waiting  for  its  burden  of  clay 
that  so  short  time  ago  was  quick  with  the  precious 
spirit  now  far  from  beyond  all  power  of  ignorance 
and  superstition.  And  even  though  the  body  had  to 
be  subjected  to  the  usual  rites  by  the  priest,  and  by 


THE  TALUKDAR'S  RECEPTION.  197 

the  nearest  male  relative,  who  lighted  the  fire  that 
reduced  it  to  a  charred  and  blackened  torso  which 
was  tossed  into  the  river,  what  did  it  really  matter 
when  it  was  so  well,  so  very  well,  with  the  spirit? 

And  Sitara  ?  Miss  Whitlow  went  at  once  to  bring 
her  away  according  to  Shew  Pershad's  wish,  but  the 
little  door  in  the  wall  was  shut  and  locked,  and  all 
was  still.  Xo  answer  was  made  to  her  question, 
"  Koi  hai  ? "  and  she  looked  at  the  door  as  though 
she  would  question  it  in  lieu  of  anyone  appearing. 
She  felt  that  the  hot  wind,  driving  the  sand  against 
the  door,  knew  as  much  as  she  did,  or  perhaps  ever 
would,  of  Sitara's  whereabouts,  so  perfectly  helpless 
is  the  European  when  the  Hindoo  shuts  the  door  of 
his  castle  against  him. 

Other  days,  haunted  by  the  remembrance  of  her 
bright  face  and  by  the  remembrance  of  Shew  Per 
shad's  simple,  faithful  life,  she  would  go  there,  but 
the  door  was  always  locked,  and  there  was  no  appear 
ance  of  it  being  inhabited.  The  cousin  had  found 
another  place  in  which  to  stay,  and  could  not  or 
would  not  tell  what  had  become  of  the  poor  little 
child-widow,  swallowed  up  by  the  dark  surging  sea  of 
native  life. 


198  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

HOUSEKEEPING  CARES. 

was  a  consultation  in  the  Clinton  household 
_L  one  morning.  The  Bishop  had  been  over  to  the 
college,  where  he  spent  much  of  his  time,  and  Mrs. 
Clinton  and  Lillian  had  been  to  the  annual  prize  distri 
bution  to  the  pupils  of  the  girls'  day  schools  of  the  mis 
sion.  Both  she  and  Lillian  had  enioved  it  very  much. 

m    w  */ 

It  was  held  in  the  native  church,  the  door  having  had 
a  covered  way  improvised  so  that  xenana  women 
could  get  out  of  their  dhoolies  and  ekkas  and  garis 
without  being  seen  by  any  chance  passers-by,  every 
man  employed  about  the  place  being  first  sent  off. 
The  room  was  nearly  full,  chiefly  of  Mohammedan 
women  and  girls,  though  there  were  some  Hindoos, and 
all  in  their  best  silks  and  jewels  and  embroideries. 
Each  recited  selections  from  the  Bible  hymns  and  the 
Ten  Commandments.  One  from  each  school  read 
an  essay  or  recited  poetry,  and  one  I'ead  the  history 
of  the  schools  and  spoke  in  a  commendatory  and 
grateful  way  of  each  lady  missionary  who  had  super 
intended  them.  The  government  inspector  of  the 
schools,  a  clever  and  capable  Eurasian  hidy,  wliohad 
been  educated  in  mission  school  sat  at  Mrs.  Clinton's 
side  and  translated. 

It  was  all  very  hopeful  and  interesting,  and  it  was 
with   the   greatest   pleasure    that  Mrs.  Clinton,  with 


HOUSEKEEPING  CARES.  199 

Lillian's  help,  awarded  the  prizes,  most  of  which  had 
been  sent  out  by  children's  mission  bands  at  home. 
Lillian  felt  a  new  interest  in  these  same  children's 
bands,  and  secretly  resolved  to  work  harder  when  she 
returned  to  America.  Then  they  had  gone  home  in  the 
usual  hired  gari  to  breakfast,  which  was  late,  and  a 
late  breakfast  in  a  treacherous  climate  means  great 
exhaustion  and  a  chance  of  other  and  worse  things  ;  so 
the  family  consulted. 

The  days  were  all  so  full  that  they  hardly  had 
time  to  talk  unless  time  was  taken.  The  Bishop  was 
in  great  and  constant  demand,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  in  no 
less.  They  seemed,  as  Miss  Whitlow  said,  to  supply 
a  long-felt  want,  for  there  was  always  a  little  help 
needed; some  extra  impulse  to  be  given  to  especial  or 
new  lines  of  work,  and  then  they  were  always  glad  of 
help  in  the  regular  services  in  the  two  churches.  So 
much  and  so  important  was  the  work  each  day  that 
the  housekeeping,  and  even  Lillian,  was  left  rather  in 
the  lurch;  but  for  a  few  clays  things  had  been  too 
bad  and  called  for  a  halt. 

There  were  three  points  to  be  considered.  First,  it 
was  plain  that  if  Mrs.  Clinton  was  to  be  out  doing 
schools  and  meetings  and  other  things  twice  or  three 
times  a  day  she  could  do  absolutely  nothing  else.  "Was 
she  to  do  mission  work  or  housework  ? 

"  Mission  work,  of  course,"  decided  the  Bishop. 

"Very  well,  that  means  another  man  to  do  the 
dusting,  watch  the  house,  and  make  tea  while  the  cook 
goes  out  in  the  morning." 

"  Very  well,  then,  let  it  be  another  man,  and 
let  us  hope  we  may  have  things  in  time  and  be 
relieved  from  the  annoyance  of  having  the  house 


200  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

un cared  for,"  said  the  Bishop ;  and  the  first  point 
was  settled. 

The  next  point  was  Lillian.  She  could  not  go 
everywhere  with  her  mother,  as  it  was  exhausting  the 
child,  and  was  for  many  reasons  not  wise.  But  she 
must  go  with  her  or  have  a  woman  to  stay  with  her 
at  home.  There  was  no  other  way. 

"Very  well," said  the  Bishop,  "  if  there  is  no  other 
way,  then  of  course  there  is  no  other  way,  and  the 
woman  must  come ;  for  I  also  can  see  that  it  will  not 
do  for  Lillian  to  go  about  all  day.  She  is  already 
looking  the  worse  for  it." 

Tsow  the  third  point.  They  were  paying  out  more 
each  day  than  the  cost  of  owning  a  horse  and  gari, 
losing  time  and  risking  infection,  and  getting  fleas 
and  other  things  in  the  hired  gari.  It  had  been 
clearly  shown  them  sometime  earlier  that  where 
there  was  a  necessity  of  going  to  all  parts  of  a  city 
spread  over  thirty-six  square  miles  walking  was  out  of 
the  question,  even  would  the  hot  winds  and  sun  per 
mit,  which  they  did  not. 

The  Bishop  disposed  of  this  third  point  by  saying 
he  had  already  made  inquiries  and  got  Mackenzie  to 
do  so,  for  a  second-hand  gari  and  a  serviceable 
horse.  And  then  they  sat  down  to  their  tardy  break 
fast. 

Do  not  for  a  moment  suppose  that  Mrs.  Clinton 
had  given  up  her  struggle  or  that  she  did  not  still 
feel  a  little  "out"  with  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  or  that  Mr>. 
Mackenzie  forgot.  O,  no;  but  there  was  so  much  to 
be  done  that  things  which  were  not  of  the  very  first 
importance  got  crowded  out  or  driven  aside,  though 
she  meant  ultimately  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  everything, 


HOUSEKEEPING  CARES.  201 

and  while  she  yielded  the  points  of  two  more  persons 
who  were  to  do  the  work  she  had  the  feeling  that 
the  battle  was  not  yet  lost.  These  two,  the  khidmat- 
gar  and  the  woman  to  stay  with  Lillian,  were  only 
two,  and  her  number  was  still  less  than  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie's,  and  she  meant  to  keep  it  so.  There  were 
other  points  about  which  she  felt  sure  she  could 
prove  Mrs.  Mackenzie  in  the  wrong,  points  enough 
to  give  her  a  comfortable,  self-satisfied  feeling. 

The  Bishop  seemed  so  absorbed  in  the  work  he 
had  on  hand  that  it  was  difficult  to  interest  him  in  the 
very  things  in  which  she  had  expected  to  have  diffi 
culty  in  restraining  his  condemnation,  and  she  felt 
aggrieved  a  little  to  think  she  after  all  was  having  to 
do  what  he  had  come  to  do. 

The  Bishop  was  not  asleep  or  indifferent.  He  had 
a  mind  that  did  not  occupy  itself  with  details,  but 
took  things  largely,  catching  the  salient  points  of  a 
scheme  slowly,  perhaps,  but  rather  surely.  The  size 
and  extent  and  foundation  of  each  department  of  the 
work  engaged  his  full  attention,  and  it  was  impossible 
that  his  mind  could  dwell  on  unimportant  and  petty 
ways  and  means  ;  and  he  felt  some  little  impatience  at 
his  wife's  insisting  on  appealing  to  him  with  regard  to 
every  change  she  made.  But  she  was  too  wise  to 
make  all  these  changes  and  advances  without  getting 
his  sanction  and  having  him  understand  they  were 
necessary,  as  she  knew  there  would  come  a  time  in 
the  future  for  summing  up  experiences. 

Not  the  least  of  a  housekeeper's  trials  in  India  is  the 
grappling  with  a  foreign  language.  The  men  among 
whom  her  work  is  divided  all  know  more  or  less  of 
her  language,  while  she  does  not  understand  one  word 


202  THE  BISHOPS  CONVERSION. 

of  theirs.  This  is  enough  to  keep  her  from  starving, 
but  it  also  places  her  more  effectually  in  their  hands 
and  leaves  her  more  perfectly  at  their  mercy. 

Mrs.  Clinton  soon  found  that  she  must  learn  the 
names  of  some  things  at  least  for  which  there  were  nc 
English  equivalents.  So,  without  intending  to  study 
the  language,  she  got  a  Roman  Urdu  and  English 
dictionary,  and  finding  the  nouns  unexpectedly  easy 
she  learned  a  long  list  of  them,  as  well  as  some  easy 
sentences,  and  then  began.  She  told  a  man  to  bring 
her  a  large  fine  house  when  she  only  wanted  an  ounce  of 
butter;  she  asked  for  a  child  to  lay  on  top  of  a  bed  of 
coals  when  she  wanted  wood  ;  she  told  her  husband  she 
saw  the  girls  at  the  Lai  I>agh  school  eating  grass  houses 
when  she  meant  the  round  flat  cakes  which  are  their 
common  food;  she  complained  to  the  cook  that  the 
bread  was  an  uold  man  "  when  she  only  meant  it  was 
not  fresh  ;  and  she  asked  the  butcher  what  "  time  it 
was  by  the  calf's  hat,"  when  she  wished  to  know  the 
price  of  a  calf's  head.  This  latter  she  would  never 
acknowledge  even  though  Carnton  was  coming  up  the 
steps  and  heard  the  bargaining  with  the  man  at  the 
end  of  the  veranda. 

There  was  never  a  smile  from  those  gentle,  dark- 
eyed  people,  and  even  the  man  with  the  calf's  head 
understood,  which  proves  two  things:  First,  that 
they  are  a  superior  race  of  people,  and,  second,  that 
they  have  had  much  practice  in  understanding  strange 
and  curious  forms  of  their  own  language  as  used  by 
English-speaking  people. 

If  when  congenial  friends  and  caste  brethren  are 
smoking  the  hookah  together,  the  stories  of  their 
Mem  Sahibs'  efforts  at  Hindoostanee  furnish  food  for 


HOUSEKEEPING  CAUKS.  203 

much  deri&ion,  and  their  Punch  and  Judy  shows  are 
formed  on  the  Sahib's  mistakes  and  his  treatment  of 
the  servants,  what  then  '.  It  is  a  very  small  and 
harmless  recompense  to  them,  for  all  they  must  suffer 
in  keeping  their  faces  grave  and  solemn  wnen  they 
would  give  half  their  wages  to  he  able  to  laugh. 

When  Mrs.  Clinton  first  arrived  in  India  she  felt 
happy  in  seeing  the  soft-voiced,  white-robed  serv 
ants  moving  quietly  about,  cleaning  and  putting  the 
house  in  order,  decorating  the  table  with  flowers, 
bringing  the  food  already  cooked  to  the  house,  and 
then  at  night,  after  every  thing  was  done,  closing  the 
doors  softly  and  vanishing  to  their  own  houses,  there 
to  cook  their  own  food,  or  to  eat  it  after  their  wives 
had  cooked  it. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  at  last  she  had  found  the  par 
adise  for  woman — a  place  where  she  could  be  in  har 
mony  with  her  environments,  a  place  where  she 
could  bid  carking  household  cares  begone,  and,  with 
her  mind  and  body  free,  do  whatever  seemed  best. 
What  books  might  be  read  and  even  written !  what  old 
accomplishments  might  be  raked  up!  and  the  mission 
work  that  could  be  done  seemed  to  stretch  in  alluring 
endless  perspective  before  her,  if  only  she  had  not 
come  on  a  mission  of  reform,  and  if  she  could  only 
settle  down  with  the  accepted  number  of  men  that 
most  people  had.  Then,  after  all  her  wearisome  and 
unsuccessful  attempts  to  reduce  the  number,  she 
•finally  had  to  surrender,  backed  by  episcopal  author 
ity,  and  had  nearly  the  usual  number.  She  even 
then  found  that  things  in  India,  as  elsewhere,  are  not 
what  they  seem.  In  succumbing  to  the  usual  num 
ber  she  hoped  to  find  relief  and  to  be  able  to  do 


204  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

much  mission  work  and  much  visiting  and  write 
many  cheering,  interesting  letters  to  the  elect  ladies 
in  America  interested  in  missions.  She  had  been  a 
good  housekeeper  at  home,  using  her  quick  brain  to 
simplify  work,  and  to  do  the  most  in  a  given  time 
with  a  given  amount  of  strength ;  but  it  was  a  wear 
ing  existence,  and  one  which  she  had  often  wished 
could  be  less  so,  and  yet  she  knew  of  no  woman  of 
any  social  position  in  her  own  land,  and  with  children, 
who  had  a  less  harassing  life.  But  she  thought  when 
she  first  saw  the  Indian  households  that  here,  with 
the  same  money  she  spent  on  her  home  in  America, 
on  furnishing,  repairs,  on  table  and  servants,  she 
might  have  an  ideal  home — beautiful,  comfortable, 
and  all  arranged  and  kept  up  with  the  noiseless,  fric- 
tionless,  turbaned,  salaaming,  and  respectful  servants 
of  Hindostau. 

Tain  dream !  There  is  no  such  paradise  for 
women  on  the  round  earth.  Their  lot  is  far  removed 
from  paradise,  and  nowhere  is  it  farther  than  when 
served  by  these  same  respectful,  soft-eyed  Pir  Bnxes 
and  Baba  Lais.  Not  that,  considering  everything, 
they  are  not  in  their  way  remarkably  good  servants. 
Xot  that  Mrs.  Clinton  did  not  acknowledge  that  each 
one,  when  once  understood,  was  less  trying  in  him 
self  than  Bridget  or  Tom,  but  there  were  so  many, 
and  each  one's  work  depended  on  others,  aud  the  in 
fluence  of  climate,  and  one  thing  and  another,  were  so 
adverse,  that  to  feel  comfort  and  rest  was  impossible. 
The  mind  was  always  braced  for  some  disaster,  some 
failure  of  carrying  out  orders,  some  broken  dish  or 
ruined  treasure,  some  lack  of  coining  up  in  time,  so 
that  her  nei-ves  began  to  be  in  a  very  strange  state. 


HOUSEKEEPING  CAKES.  205 

and  she  could  agree  with  an  old  missionary  who  told 
her  that  it'  she  went  on  with  the  same  anxiety  for  her 
house  and  housekeeping  much  longer  she  would  "lose 
her  religion." 

Her  anxiety  on  this  score  was  as  much  for  her  hus 
band  as  for  herself,  for  they  botli  loved  order  and 
regularity  and  promptness,  and  the  one  reason  of  her 
unusual  success  as  a  housekeeper  at  home  and  of  the 
great  amount  of  literary  work  her  husband  had  done 
was  their  habits  of  regularity  and  promptness  ;  so  this 
irregularity  was  telling  on  him  too. 

"  I  really  believe,"  he  said  one  day  as  he  had  looked 
at  his  watch  twenty  times  in  a  half-hour,  "  I  really 
believe  that  I  shall  be  tempted  to  chastise  that  cook  if 
he  does  not  bring  breakfast  more  promptly." 

Mrs.  Clinton  regarded  him  with  horror.  Was  her 
husband  losing  his  mind  !  Surely  sometimes  she  had 
felt  as  though  she  was  going  mad,  but  her  calm,  un 
emotional  husband — a  bishop  of  the  Church — beating 
a  fellow-being ! 

He  smiled  a  little  at  her  look,  and  said :  "  I  hope 
you  do  not  think  I  would  do  it  in  anger,  but  what 
can  we  do  ?  My  morning's  work  is  quite  ruined  by 
this  delay.  I  cannot  resort  to  the  usual  method  and 
keep  back  part  of  his  pay,  for  you  say  his  wife  is  ill, 
and  so  he  especially  needs  what  little  he  gets." 

His  wife  did  not  lose  her  shocked  expression. 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  he  said,  "  they  are  like  children, 
and  should  be  punished  as  children.  There  is  not  the 
least  excuse  for  Xabi  Bux  having  breakfast  an  hour 
late.  Now  see;"  and  he  opened  the  door,  which  was 
closed  as  usual  to  keep  out  the  hot  wind,  and  went  on 

the  veranda  and  lifted  the  heavy  canvas  that  was  also 
15 


THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

there  to  bar  the  wind  and  dust.  "  Balek,"  lie  called 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  to  the  khidmatgar,  and  an 
echo  of  a  voice  was  heard  above  the  howling  of  the 
wind  : 

"  Your  honor  ? " 

"  Is  breakfast  ready  ? " 

"  I  have  brought  it,  your  honor,"  and  the  Bishop 
stepped  back,  dropping  the  canvas  and  closing  the 
door,  and  sat  down  with  a  confused  swavinar  of  blood 

b  O 

in  his  head. 

"  His  answer  is  nearly  the  first  llindoostanee  word 
I  learned.  You  know  AVelton,  that  old  white-haired 
saint?  I  heard  him  call  for  his  breakfast  one  day, 
and  the  answer  was,  as  usual,  'Liya' — that  is,  'I  have 
brought  it.' 

"  '  Liar,'  said  Welton,  laughing ;  '  of  course  you  need 
not  tell  me  that.  I  am  reminded  of  the  fact  about 
fifty  times  a  day.' 

"He  explained  then  that '  liya,'  which  sounded  very 
much  like  'liar,'  meaning  'it  is  brought,'  is  the 
politest  possible  answer  a  servant  can  give  when  you 
call  for  anything,  and  politeness  in  their  idea  of  faith 
ful  service  always  comes  before  truthfulness.  He 
said  he  never  heard  it  without  being  tempted  to  give 
them  the  word  in  return  that  sounded  the  nearest 
like  it." 

Then  they  waited  and  waited,  and  finally,  faint  and 
half  exhausted  and  patience  all  gone,  Balek  came, 
bringing  the  usual  dish  of  cracked  wheat  and  jug  of 
milk,  the  milk  a  trifle  sour. 

"  Why  is  this  milk  sour  (  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  your  honor." 

"  Did  von  boil  it  ?  " 


HOUSEKEEPING  CARES.  207 

"Yes,  your  honor,  but  the  day  is  very  warm.  Per 
haps  this  is  the  reason." 

"  If  that  were  the  reason  it  would  be  sour  every 
day.  No,  Balek,"  Mrs.  Clinton  added,  "  you  are  tak 
ing  bad  milk,  and  keeping  the  money  which  I  give 
you  for  good  milk  for  yourself.  But  you  will  get  no 
pay  for  it  when  it  is  sour." 

"  As  it  pleases  your  honor." 

"  No,  it  is  not  as  it  pleases  me.  I  do  not  do  it  be 
cause  it  pleases  me,  but  because  we  cannot  starve,  and 
we  cannot  use  such  milk  as  this." 

While  they  were  eating  the  cracked  wheat  with 
sugar  alone  Balek  brought  the  red  pottery  surahi,  or 
bottle,  with  drinking-water,  and  poured  it  out  into  the 
glasses 'with  a  gurgle  that  sounded  cool,  though  it  was 
not. 

Taking  up  the  glass  to  drink,  the  Bishop  stopped 
short  of  putting  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Balek,  what  does  this  mean  \  "  he  said,  sternly. 
u  Look  now,  look  well.  Do  you  wish  us  all  to  die?" 

Balek  took  it  with  apparent  surprise  and  held  it  up 
to  the  dim  light  from  the  glass  in  the  door.  Even  his 
face  fell  a  little,  for  there  were  twenty  or  more  of  the 
larvae  of  the  mosquito  wriggling  around  in  the  water. 
Mrs.  Clinton  then  examined  her  glass  with  the  same 
result. 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  over  and  over  again  to  look 
sharply  after  the  filter  ?  Was  this  water  boiled  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  honor,  with  my  own  hands." 

"  Did  you  put  new  charcoal  in  the  filter  ? " 

"  Yesterday  I  did,  Mem  Sahib." 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  you  must  bring  me  two  pice 
every  time  I  found  anything  in  the  water  like  this  ? " 


208  THE  BISHOP'S  CO.NVI.KSIOX. 

"  Yes,  your  honor,"  sullenly. 

"Well,  you  are  disobeying  constantly,  and  I  can 
overlook  some  things ;  but  when  you,  by  carelessness, 
endanger  our  lives,  what  can  I  do?  I  must  punish 
you  in  some  way  ;  therefore  you  may  go  and  get  two 
pice  and  give  them  to  me." 

Balek  stood  silent  and  sullen  a  moment,  then  said  : 
"No,  Mem  Sahib,  I  won't-do-it ;"  the  last  three  words 
pronounced  as  one. 

Mrs.  Clinton,  without  looking  at  her  husband,  rose 
and  picked  up  his  light  bamboo  cane  which  stood  by 
his  hat  and  umbrella,  and  quietly  gave  the  man  a  tap 
on  his  bare  calf  with  it. 

"Now  will  you  go  ?"  she  asked,  quietly,  but  firmly. 

"  Yes,  Mem  Sahib,  I  will,"  and  he  fled. 

Mrs.  Clinton  looked  up  at  her  husband,  who  was 
regarding  her  with  a  gaze  she  could  feel  before  she 
encountered  it. 

"'I  am  acting  on  your  suggestion  that  they  should 
be  treated  like  children,"  she  said,  with  a  demure 
smile,  even  though  her  face  was  flushed.  "  I  never 
allowed  a  child  to  disobey  me,  and  it  had  to  be  dealt 
with  at  once." 

"Yes,"  doubtfully;  "still,  if  told  by  the  servants, 
it  would  have  a  strange  sound  to  people,  especially  at 
home." 

"  I  know,  but  I  have  temporized  too  long  with  these 
men.  Many  women  tell  me  they  sc-okl  and  storm,  and 
in  that  way  make  them  obey,  but  I  cannot  and  will 
not  do  that,  so  I  must  do  what  I  can  do,  even  if  it 
means  using  a  stick  now  and  then." 

The  Bishop  sighed.  It  was  all  true.  He  had  seen 
gentlewomen  get  into  a  perfect  rage  and  excuse  it  by 


CAKES.  *Jt»l.) 

saving  it  was  the  only  way  they  could  get  anything 
clone,  and  most  women  in  India  had  fallen  into  at 
least  a  garrulous  tone  when  expostulating  with  them. 
It  was  to  be  deplored,  but  the  Bishop  thought,  in  the 
language  of  the  people,  "  Kya  karega  " — "  What  can 
you  do  ? " 

Balek  returned  quickly  with  the  pice,  and  was  most 
assiduous  and  deft-handed  in  his  attention. 

But  after  prayers  he  presented  himself  to  the  Bishop 
in  his  study  and  said: 

"  I  will  go.  I  not  stay.  It  was  never  known  that 
the  Mem  Sahib  beat  me.  The  Sahib  will  always,  if  he 
please,  beat,  but  not  the  Mem  Sahib." 

"  Does  the  Mem  Sahib  ever  give  you  trouble  if  you 
do  your  work?  Is  she  not  always  kind  to  you  ?  " 

"  Much,  Sahib,  much/' 

"  Very  well,  you  may  stay  or  go ;  but  if  you  give 
her  trouble  she  shall  beat  you  when  she  likes." 

He  did  stay,  and  there  was  a  general  brightening 
up  and  coming  to  time  all  around.  The  cook  was  told 
the  same  was  in  store  for  him  if  he  did  not  have 
breakfast  and  dinner  at  the  appointed  hour.  And 
that  was  the  last  and  only  time  Mrs.  Clinton  was 
obliged  to  punish  a  man  other  than  by  a  few  pice  cut 
from  his  wages  now  and  then  ;  but  she  never  told 
Mrs.  Mackenzie  how  she  conquered  her  unruly  house 
hold. 

This  does  not  mean  that  it  ended  the  cook's  at 
tempts  to  take  double  the  right  prices  from  her. 
How  was  she  to  know  just  how  many  annas  a  fowl 
ought  to  cost,  whether  live  or  ten,  and  she  could  not 
dispute  the  price  of  beef  when  she  was  not  quite  sure 
M'hat  was  the  right  price.  The  sort  of  continual  strug- 


210  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

gle  that  is  involved  in  trying  to  pay  the  correct  value 
of  the  daily  purchases  for  the  table  is,  to  a  conscien 
tious  person  of  limited  income,  nothing  short  of  mad 
dening.  Purchases  of  fruit,  vegetables,  and  meat  must 
be  made  each  day,  and  as  these  prices  vary  with  the 
season,  and  still  more  according  to  the  income  and  so 
cial  position  of  the  consumers,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
be  cheated  a  certain  amount  each  day.  And  when  a 
new  Mem  Sahib  comes  to  the  place  all  in  the  bazar 
conspire  to  keep  her  from  knowing  the  correct 
prices. 

The  person  living  in  the  house  immediately  pre 
ceding  her  may  have  had  a  large  income  or  have  been 
regardless  of  expenditure.  Very  well ;  the  incoming 
Mem  Sahib  is  expected  to  pay  the  same  prices,  even 
though,  having  a  large  family  and  a  small  income,  she 
may  try  to  pay  just  the  right  price  and  no  more.  She 
finds  herself  avoided,  and  she  feels  it  in  the  air  that 
she  is  regarded  with  dislike  and  aversion  by  all  the 
men  who  come  to  bring  her  bread  and  milk,  meat 
and  fruit,  by  her  servants  and  all  she  has  to  do  with. 
Perhaps,  if  she  persists  long  enough  in  a  straightfor 
ward,  kind,  consistent  way,  she  may  after  a  while  in 
spire  confidence,  and  they  may  come  to  understand 
that  she  is  just  and  will  not  take  advantage  of  them, 
and  this  they  really  prefer  to  a  large  profit  one  day 
and  a  beating  down  and  loss  another. 

It  was  annoying,  bewildering,  and  harassing  to  Mrs. 
Clinton,  who  especially  wished  to  bring  her  expendi 
ture  within  a  certain  limit,  and  each  day  she  felt  that 
some  way,  with  all  her  care  and  anxiety,  she  was  going 
beyond  the  line.  Each  day  she  knew,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts,  the  food  on  the  table  was  not  what  it 


HOUSEKEEPING  CAKKS.  211 

ought  to  be,  and  each  night  she  went  to  bed  with  the 
unsatisfied  feeling  that  the  day  had  been,  in  some 
sense,  a  failure. 

The  most  harassing  thing  of  all  was  the  knowledge 
that  they  were  not  always  getting  food  that  was 
wholesome  or  even  safe  to  eat.  First,  there  was  the 
milk.  It  was — even  if  not  sour — thin,  watery,  blue, 
and  smelled  of  smoke  from  a  fire  built  of  cow  ma 
nure,  and  there  was  always  a  sediment  of  sand  at  the 
bottom  of  the  cup.  Lucknow  was  a  noted  place  for 
enteric  fever,  and  the  fever  commission  appointed  to 
investigate  the  cause  had  decided  that  infection  was 
communicated  through  cows  being  badly  fed ;  at  any 
rate,  through  milk.  So  she  insisted  on  the  cow  being- 
brought  to  the  door  that  she  might  have  it  milked  be 
fore  her  into  one  of  her  own  clean  copper  cooking 
vessels.  The  milk  was  better  then,  but  if  she  were 
not  there  to  see  each  morning,  and  watching  sharply, 
she  could  not  be  sure  the  man  would  not  add  old  milk 
which  he  brought  in  a  bottle  concealed  in  his  clothes. 
Then  the  x?ook  found  her  a  cow  he  wished  her  to  buy. 
and  said  he  would  look  after  it  himself,  and  it  could 
then  be  no  trouble  to  her.  This  would  be  better. 
She  could  then  be  sure  it  was  fed  with  good  grass  and 
other  necessary  food,  and  she  could  see  the  Bishop 
drink  a  glass  of  unboiled  milk  without  shuddering, 
for  though  he  had  been  persistently  warned  that  it 
was  unsafe  to  drink  uncooked  milk,  yet  he  could  not 
drink  it  after  cooking,  and  he  had  always  had  a  glass 
of  milk  in  the  morning. 

So  the  cow  was  bought,  costing  five  rupees  for 
every  seer  of  milk  it  was  warranted  to  give  a  day. 
The  man  who  sold  it  said  it  would  give  eight  seers,  or 


212  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

quarts,  a  day.  This  was  so  unusually  large  a  yield 
that  she  did  not  wholly  credit  it,  but  paid  him  only 
for  five  seers  a  day — that  is,  twenty-five  rupees ;  but  she 
found  after  two  weeks'  trial  that  it  gave  two  quarts  in 
the  morning  and  two  quarts  in  the  evening,  and  she 
then  knew  she  had  paid  five  rupees  too  much. 

Having  the  cow  allowed  her  to  have  the  butter 
made  at  home,  and  lessened  one  anxiety  and  trouble. 
At  least  she  thought  it  would,  for  the  man  had  only 
to  boil  the  milk,  set  it,  skim  the  cream  off  the  next 
morning,  and,  putting  it  in  a  large  glass  bottle,  shake 
it  until  the  butter  came.  This  was  done  every  morn 
ing  before  she  was  up. 

But  while  their  chances  of  infection  were  lessened, 
and  while  the  number  of  men  coming  to  the  house 
to  be  dealt  with  was  lessened  by  two,  imagine  her  sur 
prise  to  find  a  strange  man  milking  the  cow. 

"  Who  is  he  ? "  she  asked  of  the  cook. 

"  This  man  ?  O,  he  is  the  man  who  cares  for  the 
cow,  gives  her  food  and  water  and  grass." 

"  But  who  pays  him  ?  " 

"  Your  honor,  when  he  has  done  your  honor's  work 
your  honor  will  of  a  surety  pay  him." 

"  But  who  employed  him  ? " 

"Your  slave.  Your  honor  told  me  to  make  ar 
rangement  for  cow  ;  I  have  done  so." 

"  Why  do  you  not  feed  her  and  milk  her  (  1  can 
not  afford  this  nonsense.  There  is  plenty  of  grass 
here,  and  she  needs  no  care  except  her  food  in  the 
morning."  And  her  tones  were  sharp  and  her  brow 
contracted. 

"I,  Mem  Sahib?"  in  shocked  surprise.  "'You  are 
my  mother  and  father,  and  hence  I  could  not  refuse 


HursKKKKPING    C.\KKS.  213 

to  do  jour  commands  ;  but  it  is  nut  custom  to  cooks, 
and  thej  never,  never  do  it." 

"'  There  are  the  two  men  for  the  house  ;  surelj  they 
can  do  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  Mem  Sahib,"  doubtfully. 

"  Call  them  at  once." 

"'  Protector  of  the  poor,  the  grass-cutter  has  gone  to 
the  jungle  to  cut  grass,  and  the  other  man  has  gone 
with  the  Bissip  Sahib  to  the  bazar.  Always  at  time 
of  taking  milk  the  grass-cut  has  gone  to  jungle,  and 
many  times  the  driver  gone  with  Bissip  Sahib  or  Mem 
Sahib,  and  they  not  do  it;  it  not. the  custom." 

"  But  the  bihisti,  he  has  goats  and  he  milks  them 
and  feeds  them.  "Why  can  he  not  do  it  ?  " 

"  He  knows  goats,  he  not  know  cow,  and  he  not  do 
it ;  -it  is  not  the  custom," 

"  The  sweeper,  then  ? "  doubtfully. 

u  Mem  Sahib,  no  one  drink  milk  that  sweeper  bring. 
I  not  cook  with  it,"  was  the  answer,  with  indignant 
emphasis. 

Exhausted  and  angry  she  turned  to  go  into  the 
house.  It  was  useless  to  beat  her  head  against  the 
solid  wall  of  caste  and  custom.  Turning  back  she 
asked  impatiently  what  such  a  man  must  be  paid,  and 
was  told  four  rupees,  or  a  dollar  and  sixty  cents,  per 
month. 

She  went  in  and  sat  down  in  indignation.  She 
thought  of  Bridget  a-nd  Tom,  and  she  would  in  that 
moment  of  unsanctih'ed  wrath  and  disgust  and  ex 
haustion  have  been  glad  to  have  sent  all  the  white- 
robed,  soft-voiced,  barefooted  servants  into  their 
mother  Ganges  could  she  have  seen  Bridget's  hon 
est  face  about  her  house. 


214  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

Another  source  of  possible  infection  and  certain 
trouble  Mrs.  Clinton  found  in  the  meat  supply. 
During  the  cold  weather  beef,  mutton,  fowls,  and  fish 
were  to  be  had  ;  in  the  hot  weather  only  mutton  and 
fowls.  The  fowls  were  bazar-fed,  and  that  means  fed 
on  anything — refuse  or  nothing,  varied  by  a  little  good 
food  now  and  then — and  were  naturally  very  thin 
and  scraggy. 

Mrs.  Clinton  felt  tempted  to  try  to  keep  fowls,  but 
fearing  another  man  would  he  required  she  contented 
herself  by  buying  a  dozen  or  two  small  ones  and  pay 
ing  for  grain  to  feed  them.  But  many  of  them  dis 
appeared,  "  eaten  by  jackals."  the  cook  said,  and  so 
she  found  it  rather  expensive. 

Then,  even  in  the  season  for  them,  it  was  difficult  to 
get  good  beef  and  good  fish  and  good  mutton.  She 
found  them  nearly  always  poor,  until  it  was  suggested 
to  her  by  Miss  Whitlow  that  perhaps  she  was  getting 
goat  meat  instead  of  mutton.  Then  she  insisted  on 
seeing  the  mutton  every  day  before  it  was  cooked. 
The  cook  looked  injured  and  innocent,  but  the  next 
morning  brought  the  mutton  wala  up  on  the  veranda, 
asked  the  Mem  Sahib  to  come  out  and  see  the  quarter 
of  mutton  in  the  man's  own  hand,  and  to  also  see  the 
foot  which  had  wool  on  it,  and  be  convinced  and  doubt 
his  honesty  no  more.  The  mutton  wala  also  looked 
eager  to  prove  his  good  intentions  and  immunity  from 
such  a  culpable  thing  as  selling  goat  meat  for  mutton. 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  ashamed.  "  How  could  these 
men  ever  be  honest  if  they  were  continually  and  un 
justly  being  suspected  of  such  sly,  underhand  tricks? 
and  for  her  part  she  was  done  with  it;"  and  she  lifted 
the  foot  of  the  sheep  which  was  dangling  by  a  ligament. 


HOUSEKEEPING  CARES.  215 

All,  why  did  it  come  off  so  suddenly  in  her  hand  '. 
Looking  inquiringly  into  the  face  of  the  cook  she  saw 
the  most  shamefaced,  the  most  guilty,  the  most  hu 
miliated  man  she  had  ever  seen,  and  the  mutton  wala's 
face  was  a  duplicate  of  it  but  less  intense.  He  was 
not  the  Mem  Sahib's  servant,  and  could  not  be  dis 
missed. 

Not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  Nabi  Bux  picked  up 
the  foot,  and  looked  at  it  helplessly.  Mrs.  Clinton 
took  it  from  him  and  examined  it.  The  end  of  the 
ligament  was  covered  with  glue. 

"  Plow  many  legs  of  goats  has  this  been  stuck  on  to 
deceive  honest  people,  Nabi  Bux  ? " 

He  hung  his  head,  in  silent  shame,  and  after  a  mo 
ment  the  cook  and  butcher  both  vanished  around  the 
corner  of  the  house. 

There  seemed  an  attempt  to  do  less  of  a  business  for 
himself  on  the  part  of  Nabi  Bux  for  a  few  days,  and 
Mrs.  Clinton  thought  perhaps  this  little  episode  might 
have  had  a  permanent  effect;  but  one  thing  was  cer 
tain,  she  was  paying  for  more  eggs  than  were  eaten, 
though  with  cheerful  alacrity  the  cook  would,  when 
asked,  give  a  strict  account  of  each  one,  and  in  such 
a  way  that  she  was  convinced  in  spite  of  her  unbelief. 
But  one  morning  when  he  had  brought  his  purchases 
in  to  show  her  as  usual  lie  returned  for  something 
forgotten  at  the  cookhouse,  and  while  he  was  gone 
she  took  out  her  pencil  and  quickly  made  slight  marks 
on  the  white  surface  of  the  dozen  eggs  before  her. 
Three  days  after  eight  of  that  dozen  were  returned 
with  four  fresh  ones  when  the  cooly  brought  the 
market-basket  with  the  cook's  morning  purchases. 

The  marks  were  very  slight,  but  she  slowly  and 


216  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

gravely  picked  out  the  eight  and  put  them  before  him 
and  looked  him  straight  in  the  eye. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  I  have  paid  you  once  for 
these." 

Astonished  and  injured  lie  said,  "  What,  Mem 
Sahib  ? " 

"You  heard  what  I  said.  Now,  remember,  let  this 
be  the  last  time  you  do  so  contemptible  an  act  as  this. 
I  have  ways  of  telling  some  things  that  you  do  not 
know,  and  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  be  more 
honest." 

Nabi  Bux  feit  sad.  This  new  Mem  Sahib  was  very 
troublesome.  A  good  Mussulman  may  cheat ;  but  a 
good  one  is  never  found  out ;  hence  his  sad  and  de 
pressed  countenance  for  the  next  few  days. 

These  are  only  examples  of  the  processes  of  the 
native  servant.  Each  one  has  his  own  department, 
and  each  one  knows  exactly  the  best  way  to  elude  the 
vigilance  of  his  mistress  and  cheat  her  out  of  enough 
to  make  a  useful  addition  to  his  wages.  The  grass- 
cut  puts  stones  and  sticks  in  the  bundle  of  grass  he 
brings  to  make  it  weigh  up  to  the  full  amount,  the 
other  man  for  the  horse  steals  the  grain  with  which 
he  ought  to  feed  the  horse,  and  feeds  his  children. 
He  breaks  the  harness  and  says  he  paid  double  the 
amount  for  having  it  mended  that  he  really  did  ;  he 
declares  he  has  used  all  the  oil  for  the  carriage,  and 
you  give  him  money  to  buy  more,  which  he  pockets 
and  shows  you  the  oil  you  bought  a  month  before  as 
a  recent  purchase.  The  water-carrier  breaks  the  rope 
at  the  well,  mends  it  himself,  and  tells  you  he  got  a 
man  from  the  bazar,  who  charges  eight  annas,  which 
you  pay.  The  "kit"  gets  stale  bread  and  sour  milk 


HOUSEKEEPING  CAKK>.  217 

cheap;  you  pay  for  good,  and  lie  pockets  the  differ 
ence.  The  cook  has  his  regular  percentage,  often 
irregularly  large,  and  the  ayuh  and  sweeper  have  their 
own  individual  sources  of  revenue,  otherwise  "per 
quisites,""  and  the  mistress  lives  in  a  continual  war 
fare.  The  most  that  women  with  other  work  than 
housekeeping  can  do  is  to  restrain  this  stealing,  and 
the  most  that  women  who  give  their  whole  time  to 
housekeeping  can  do  is  to  restrain  it  a  little  more,  but 
both  have  the  consciousness  of  dealing  with  forces 
that  will  inevitablv  conouer. 


218  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE     M  A  H  A  B  I  R     M  K  L  A. 

hot  winds  wailed  louder  each  day  about  the 
_|_  corners  of  the  house,  the  hours  that  one  could  re 
main  outdoors  during  the  middle  of  the  day  gre\v 
less,  and  yet  the  mission  work  went  on  with  a  steady 
swing.  There  was  a  busy  hum  in  many  schoolrooms 
where  boys  and  girls  who  would  form  the  future 
Church  were  learning  to  live ;  there  was  a  noise  of 
printing  presses  turning  out  books  and  papers  filled 
with  words  that  were  to  be  life  to  a  dying  people ; 
there  were,  each  day,  many  doors  in  zenanas  opened 
to  receive  gladly  welcomed  visitors  who  taught  the 
love  of  Christ ;  there  were  faces  of  preachers,  both 
white  and  dark,  seen  in  and  out  of  the  business  streets 
as  they  pursued  their  calling;  there  were  voices  daily 
lifted  in  the  market  places  and  wherever  a  group  of 
people  stood,  preaching  the  forgiveness  of  sins  and 
judgment  to  come. 

The  plan  for  each  department  of  work  was  com 
plete  and  independent  in  itself,  but  all  plans  united, 
articulated,  and  formed  a  strong  power,  imperceptible 
to  many,  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  strong  for  that,  in 
its  onward  sweep.  And  this  busy  working  force  and 
effects  were  repeated  and  duplicated  in  every  town  of 
importance  in  India;  in  some  places  with  much 
greater  and  in  others  with  less  success. 


THE  MAHAUIU  MELA.  219 

One  morning  a  few  weeks  after  the  death  of  Shew 
Pershad  there  was  an  unusual  stir  in  the  mission 
houses  consequent  on  the  breaking  of  the  steady 
routine  of  work.  The  garis  were  ready  at  an  early 
hour,  and,  tilled  with  missionaries,  with  Bible  readers, 
and  with  some  of  the  older  boys  of  the  school,  all 
well  provided  with  Bibles,  hymn  books,  illustrated  pa 
pers  and  leaflets,  were  proceeding  at  dawn  out  of 
Lucknow  to  a  village  in  the  suburban  jungle.  The 
large  mission  tent  had  been  sent  the  night  before, 
and  was  pitched  near  the  temple  of  Hanuman,  the 
center  of  attraction  which  was  drawing  people  here 
for  the  annual  religious  festival. 

The  Bishop  and  Mrs.  Clinton  were  not  far  behind 
the  othe'r  missionaries,  for  since  the  hot  weather  had 
come  on  they  made  a  practice  of  rising  at  four,  as  this 
was  the  custom  in  the  mission.  It  will  not  do  to  say 
the  Bishop  always  found  this  agreeable,  or  to  say  that 
after  a  night,  sleepless  because  of  heat,  mosquitoes, 
sleepy  punkah  coolies,  fleas,  and  so  forth,  he  did  not 
think  it  would  be  better  to  temper  zeal  with  wisdom 
and  remain  in  bed  until  a  reasonable  hour.  Never 
before  had  he  risen  before  six  or  seven,  and  yet  he 
had  been  counted  as  an  uncommonly  hard-working 
and  energetic  man. 

As  they  drove  slowly  down  the  long  road  they 
saw  the  pilgrims  of  various  kinds  proceeding  by  the 
fair  by  many  different  ways ;  but  those  who  expected 
to  receive  much  benefit  from  a  pilgrimage  on  this 
day,  or  had  to  fulfill  vows,  were  dragging  themselves 
along  on  the  ground. 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  see  these  dark,  nearly 
naked  bodies  measuring  themselves  on  the  white  sand. 


220  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

marking  a  place  ahead  of  them  as  far  as  they  could 
reach,  drawing  up  their  bodies  and  placing  their  feet 
at  the  mark,  and  then  stretching  out  again  like  huge 
measuring  worms.  Some  were  fresh  and  untired; 
having  evidently  just  joined  the  pilgrims.  These 
looked  about  at  the  passers-by  with  an  air  that  said  : 
"  Do  you  see  how  devout  lam  ?  Surely  you  must  be 
lieve  there  will  be  a  great  reward  for  such  a  one  as  I." 
Others  appeared  weary,  exhausted,  and  their  eyes 
were  full  of  pain,  whether  mental  or  physical  Mrs. 
Clinton  wished  she  knew.  Certainly  their  devotion 
was  bringing  them  anything  but  peace. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  "  it  is  the  sin  they 
are  trying  to  expiate  that  gives  them  this  agonized 
expression." 

"  Hardly,"  answered  her  husband  ;  "  I  fancy  it  is 
entirely  physical.  They  must  be  in  great  pain  from 
the  unaccustomed  strain  on  their  muscles 'after  trav 
eling  in  this  way  for  days  with  little  food  or  water, 
as  some  of  them  do." 

A  little  farther  on  they  came  to  a  man  who  lay  on 
the  ground  with  his  arm  outstretched  to  measure  a 
new  length,  overcome  with  either  exhaustion  and 
faintness  or  with  sleep,  it  was  difficult  to  tell  which, 
as  his  whole  body,  as  well  as  his  face,  was  covered  with 
dust  and  clay.  The  others  were  so  busy  in  crawling 
that  they  had  no  time  to  stop  for  this  one  of  their 
number  that  had  fainted  by  the  way.  They  only 
turned  their  heads  at  the  strange  spectacle  of  a  Bara 
Sahib  noticing  a  fakir. 

A  pundit  who  was  passing  stopped  by  the  man 
and  said  in  English,  salaaming. to  the  Bishop  as  he 
:=poke  : 


THE  MAHABIR  MKLA.  221 

"  This  man,  is  he  dead  (  " 

"No,  I  think  he  is  only  fainting,"  answered  the 
Bishop.  "  What  can  we  do  for  him  ?  " 

"  Not  anything,  Padri  Sahib.  It  is  this  way  that 
they  want  nothing  done." 

"  But  give  liiin  some  water  at  least.  I  am  sure  he 
is  fainting." 

"  No,  Sahib,  I  not  do  this  thing  ;  behold  this,"  and 
lie  pointed  to  a  dirty  string  extending  around  the  pros 
trate  body  and  up  over  one  shoulder.  "  He  is  Brah 
man  and  I  am  not  Brahman." 

"  Then  call  a  water-carrier,  or  some  one  who  is  a 
Brahman,"  he  answered  sternly,  hoping  to  see  a  bihisti 
with  a  bag  of  water  as  he  looked  about. 

"  There  is  no  one,"  said  the  pundit ;  "  and  he  would 
die  before  he  would  take  it  from  me." 

"  This  is  a  dreadful  religion,"  the  Bishop  said,  hotly ; 
"  horrible  !  How  can  you  believe  a  creed  that  makes 
you  so  cruel  and  indifferent  to  each  other's  suffer 
ings?  " 

The  pundit  lifted  his  shoulders,  and  with  the  com 
mon  gesture  of  the  land,  a  putting  out  of  both  hands, 
turning  the  palms  outward,  which  is  Hindoostanee  for 
''What  can  I  do?"  That  is,  "It  is  the  custom,  and 
how  can  I,  oidy  an  atom,  put  myself  in  opposition  to 
a  custom  which  is  as  old  as  the  hills  themselves,  and 
almost  as  firm  ?  " 

"  But  how  is  it  that  you  who  have  read  and  studied 
can  continue  to  hold  to  an  absurd  thing  like  this  ? 
You  know  that  this  poor  fellow  will  gain  nothing  but 
suffering  and  perhaps  death,  and  that  there  could  really 
be  no  harm  in  his  taking  water  from  your  hand  ; 

that  it  is  all  a  lie  and  based  on  a  lie." 
16 


"2'2'2  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  pundit  answered,  with  a  troubled 
countenance. 

"The  religion  of  Christ"— and  here  the  Bishop's 
voice  grew  reverent — "  teaches  the  high  to  serve  the 
low.  He  said,  '"Whosoever  will  be  great,  let  him  be 
a  minister,'  that  is,  let  him  be  a  helper ;  '  and  if  any 
would  be  greatest  of  all.  let  him  serve.' " 

"  Very  good  word,  Padri  Sahib ;  I  know  the  words 
of  Christ ;  they  are  true  and  good." 

"  And  you  really  believe  them  ?  "  asked  the  Bishop, 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  them,  Padri  Sahib,"  he  said,  pro 
visionally  ;  "they  are  good  words,  very  good  w<>rd> 
for  you." 

"But  if  they  are  true  are  they  not  good  words  for 
all?  If  they  are  true  other  religions  cannot  be  true," 
said  the  Bishop. 

"  They  are  very  good  words.  T  know  them  all,  I 
read  them  when  nothing  to  do,  but  they  are  for  the 
Sahib  log.  My  religion  is  better  for  me." 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  if  you  were  faint 
ing  and  dying  it  would  be  right  for  a  Brah mail  not  to 
give  you  water? " 

"  Why  not?     It  is  the  custom." 

"And  would  you  die  rather  than  take  water  from  a 
person  of  no  caste — a  sweeper  (  " 

"Certainly,  yes — why  not — er — unless  I  had  many 
rupees,  and  I  could  buy  my  caste  back  again." 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  getting  impatient  for  something 
to  be  done  for  the  man.  People  as  they  passed  gazed 
curiously  at  the  tall  form  of  the  Bishop,  at  the  pundit, 
nnd  at  the  prostrate  fakir  whose  pilgrimage  seemed 
so  nearly  at  an  end.  As  the  Bishop  turned  in  per- 


THE  MAHABIR  MELA.  223 

plexity  he  asked  another  man  who  had  half  halted 
and  said  "Good  morn,"  to  display  his  English, 

*'  What  can  we  do  for  this  creature  ?  " 

"  God  knows." 

"  Shall  we  leave  him  here  to  die  ?  " 

"  Jf  it  be  God's  will.  Where  could  he  die  better  ? 
lie  would  be  sure  of  eternal  life  dying  while  in  so 
noble  pilgrimage." 

The  Bishop  got  into  his  gari  blazing  with  indig 
nation,  but  with  a  sad  heart. 

"Never,  never  did  I  before  realize  what  a  degraded 
thing  human  nature  is  without  Christ.  He  is  the 
only  teacher  who  has  ever  taught  humanity  to  really 
feel  for  others,"  he  said  to  his  wife. 

They  were  now  leaving  the  main  road,  which  was 
hard  and  smooth,  and  the  horse  went  slowly  and 
heavily  in  the  white  sand  which  had  been  loosened 
by  the  feet  of  hundreds  of  pilgrims  already  at  their 
destination.  The  road  each  side  was  lined  thicker 
and  thicker  with  dusty  crawling  humanity,  and  others 
who  were  walking  or  riding  in  gayly  draped  carts 
with  fat  white  bullocks,  or  in  natty  ekkas  likewise 
drawn  by  ponies  decorated  by  great  necklaces  of  tur 
quoises.  All  were  in  their  best  clothes,  the  women 
in  red  or  purple  or  blue  chuddars,  with  bright-colored 
skirts,  the  men  in  gold-embroidered  caps  and  soft 
white  muslin  clothes. 

There  were  many  family  groups  of  father,  mother, 
and  children,  with  brothers  and  sisters  and  their 
children,  cooking  their  morning  meals;  for  though 
the  mela  was  local,  still  many  had  come  from  many 
miles  the  other  side  of  Lucknow  the  night  before,  and 
were  now  settled  and  grouped  as  though  for  an  artist. 


224  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

Near  them  the  bullock  curt  with  its  wide,  thick, 
heavy,  unpolished  wheels,  its  scarlet  and  white  cov 
ering,  the  luxurious-looking  pearl-white,  gentle-eyed 
bollocks  standing  near  the  women  in  their  gay  clothes 
at  work  pounding  the  golden  huldi  for  curries  or 
scouring  their  bright  brass  vase-shaped  cooking  ves 
sels,  making  them  so  bright  they  mirrored  the  colors 
about  them,  and  the  fires,  with  the  bine  smoke  rising, 
all  formed  another  of  the  picturesque  bits  that  Mrs. 
Clinton  could  never  forget. 

Later  on,  when  the  sun  was  well  up,  blazing  down 
on  the  surging,  moving  mass,  exaggerating  the  color 
so  that  it  dazzled  the  eyes,  she  came  upon  a  group  of 
mission  workers  under  a  tamarind  tree,  though  even 
there  it  was  hot  enough  to  make  her  head  feel  dull 
and  heavy.  In  the  center  of  a  group  of  women  was 
Miss  Lowe,  and  near  her  one  or  two  Bible  women. 
As  Mrs.  Clinton  stopped  before  them  they  finished 
singing  the  hymn, 

"Uth  Musaflr  kar  taij'ari  ab  to  kuch  din  nahiii  hai." 

When  it  was  finished  Miss  Lowe,  in  her  sweet,  soft 
voice,  began  talking  of  the  hymn.  The  women  had 
liked  the  hymn,  and  they  listened  with  interest  to  the 
explanations  and  the  comments,  especially  when  she 
said : 

"We  are,  as  the  hymn  says,  all  travelers,  and  our 
days  are  nearly  spent.  Soon  the  sun  will  go  down 
and  the  night  of  death  will  come  on,  and  how  dire  will 
be  our  extremity  if  we  have  made  no  preparation  ! 
and,  poor  mortals  %that  we  are,  what  preparation  for 
that  dark  hour  can  Ave  make  ?"* 

"Xone,  none,"  said  the  women,  shaking  their  heads. 


THK  MAIIA.BIK  MKI.A. 

"But  there  is  One  \vlio  lr.:s  made  preparation  for  us. 
Christ  has  done  it  all,  and  in  his  kingdom  all  will  be 

*  o 

saved  who  believe  on  him/' 

"  Is  this  true,  Miss  Sahib  ? "  asked  one  woman  in 
plain  white  clothing,  who  had  kept  in  the  background — 
"  true  for  all  widows  also  ? " 

'•  Yes  ;  in  God's  sight  all  are  equal.  lie  looks  not 
at  the  body  or  at  the  condition,  but  only  at  the  heart. 
A  woman's  soul,  even  if  she  be  a  widow,  is  the  same 
as  a  man's,  and  if  she  believe  and  obey  and  the  man 
does  not  believe  and  obey,  then  she  will  be  saved, 
while  he  will  be  lost  and  punished/' 

"  And  are  women,  then,  in  your  heaven  not  pun 
ished  for  the  death  of  their  husbands  ? " 

"  Xo,  O,  no.  God  is  just,  and  would  not  punish  a 
poor,  woman  for  what  she  was  not  responsible." 

"  Ah,  wonderful  and  sweet,  and  my  heart  tells  me 
it  is  true  !  " 

"But,"  said  another,  the  well-dressed,  happy 
mother  of  sons,  drawing  up  her  golden-embroidered 
chuddar  impatiently,  "  surely  there  can  be  no  place 
where  widows  are  equal  with  wives  {  How  can  that 
he?" 

"  Wheiv,"  murmured  the  widow,  "can  I  lind  him  \ 
lias  he  a  temple  here,  that  I  may  worship  him?" 

Then  Miss  Lowe  began  with  the  story  of  the  wise 
men  journeying  until  they  found  the  Babe  in  the 
manger,  and  while  she  talked  others  came  and  joined 
the  group  until  she  was  surrounded  by  as  many  as  could 
get  within  the  sound  of  her  voice,  all  listening,  eager- 
eyed  and  silent.  Xow  and  then  a  man  passing  saw 
the  mission  log  and  stopped  to  listen. 

Finally,  when  she  had  finished,  the  women  making 


226  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION'. 

comments  as  they  rattled  their  bangles  and  toe-rings  ami 
rearranged  their  chuddars,  one  of  the  men,  a  Hindoo 
in  the  finest  of  embroidered  muslin  and  a  gold-embroid 
ered  cap,  with  a  handsome,  clever  face,  stepped  for 
ward  a  little  and  said, 

"  Miss  Saliiba,  this  is  not  true." 

It  was  said  respectfully  and  quietly,  but  firmly. 

"  O,  yes,"  she  said,  with  equal  quietness,  "it  is  true." 

"  No,  Miss  Sahiba,  I  have  known  many  Europeans, 
and  not  one  have  I  known  that  was  not  sinful,  many  of 
them  very  sinful,  doing  things  of  which  even  a  poor 
Hindoo  " —  and  there  was  an  indescribably  proud  tone 
as  he  pronounced  these  words — "  even  a  poor  Hindoo 
would  be  incapable,  and  not  one  have  I  known  that 
was  saved  from  sin.  If  this  story  of  Christ  were  true 
would  not  all  who  believed  it  hasten  to  be  saved  from 
the  bondage  of  sin  ?  When  you  can  show  me  one, 
only  one,  who  is  freed  from  this  curse,  I  will  believe ; 
until  then  do  not  preach." 

Miss  Lowe's  face  looked  sad,  and  her  large  dark 
eyes  were  more  pathetic  than  ever,  and  her  lips 
quivered. 

How  true  this  was,  how  sadly  true,  of  herself  among 
the  rest !  But  as  she  hesitated  Elizabeth  Uma,  the 
eldest  of  the  Bible  women,  stepped  a  little  forward  in 
her  majestic  way. 

"Ah,"  she  said,  "if  we  were  preaching  ourselves 
then  you  would  do  well  to  say  you  would  not  believe 
until  one  perfect  preached  to  you  ;  but  we  preach 
Christ,  who  was  perfect,  and  on  him,  because  he  was 
perfect,  you  can  believe.  We  are  poor  weak  crea 
tures,  full  of  faults  and  ever  stumbling  and  falling, 
and  if  it  were  in  our  o\vn  merits  we  ask  vou  to  be- 


THE  MAHAHIK  MKLA.  227 

lieve,  then  you  might  challenge  us,  but  we  challenge 
you  to  find  one  single  thing  wrong  or  imperfect  in  the 
life  of  Christ.  If  you  do  find  it,  then  continue  to  wor 
ship  your  gods  that  are  blind  and  deaf  and  dumb;  if 
not,  then  accept  him  who  was  called  Jesus,  because  he 
can  and  will  save  his  people  from  their  sins.7' 

"  These  are  wise  words,"  said  Pnran  Mul,  for  this  was 
his  name,  while  a  shadow  fell  on  his  face,  a  shadow  cast 
by  ages  of  darkness  and  superstition,  and  he  salaamed 
and  went  his  way,  still  thinking  of  the  wise  words  of 
Elizabeth,  thinking  that  they  might  be  true  and  all  this 
mummery  of  worship  to  his  gods  would  then  be  noth 
ing,  as  he  had  often  suspected.  Ah !  if  only  there  might 
be  a  sure  and  perfect  provision  in  this  life  against 
which  all  the  terrors  of  Yama  would  be  as  the  laugh 
ter,  of  a  child,  then  indeed  would  life  be  robbed  of 
its  sting,  and  instead  of  grim  despair  ruling  his  heart 
there  might  be  sweet  rest.  What  would  he  not  sac 
rifice  for  rest  from  the  capricious  power  of  the  mis 
chievous  gods  that  could  be  relied  upon  only  to  do 
their  worst  for  man  ? 

With  this  still  in  his  mind  he  found  himself  in  a 
group  of  men  who  were  listening  to  a  tall,  fine-looking 
man  speaking  in  English,  which  was  translated  by  an 
other  tall  man  with  fair  hair  and  beard,  who  spoke  his 
language  with  an  accent  that  attracted  him  at  once. 

There  were  many  young  men  listening  in  order  to 
improve  their  English,  and  the  majority  of  those 
standing  about  were  intelligent  and  of  the  better  class 
of  clerks  and  students,  though  some  were  of  the  peas 
ant  or  field  laborer  caste. 

Puran  Mul  glided  in  amo  )g  them  and  came  upon 
his  brother  and  some  friends. 


228  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVKKSIOX. 

"  Who  are  these  sahibs,  and  of  what  are  they  talk- 
ing?"  he  asked. 

"  Hush,  it  is  the  high  priest  of  the  Christians  and 
the  new  master  at  the  Christian  College.  See  what 
fine  big  men  they  are — quite  devils  in  size." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  but  of  what  are  they  talking  ? " 

"  Listen  with  your  ears :  mine  are  my  own." 

And  Puran  Mill  listened  only  to  find  it  was  the 
same  wonderful  story  he  had  just  been  hearing,  "  The 
forgiveness  of  sin  through  repentance  and  a  life  of 
faith  on  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  the  atonement.  Xo 
expiation  by  the  sinner  possible,  no  cleansing  of  vile 
hearts  by  washing  in  sacred  rivers,  neither  by  labo 
rious  pilgrimages  nor  by  cutting  the  flesh  ;  nothing  at 
all  gained  by  works  ;  Christ  had  once  for  all  made  the 
only  expiation  possible." 

When  the  speaker  finished  some  young  men  from 
the  college  sang  a  hymn,  the  burden  of  which  was 
that  Christ  was  a  wonderful  Saviour,  and  through  him 
all  gloom  and  terror  were  dispersed  because  his  was 
a  heart  full  of  love. 

Then  Carnton  asked  in  his  clear,  kindly  voice  if  any 
there  accepted  this  as  the  truth  and  would  be  bap 
tized  into  the  faith  and  ever  afterward  be  known  as 
Christ's  disciples. 

" Come,"  said  Puran  Mul  to  his  brother,  "come; 
my  heart  speaks  strongly  and  tells  me  that  all  this  is 
true  and  that  it  is  for  us." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  "  cried  his  brother.  "  What  will 
you  do  but  bring  disgrace  on  us  all  ?"  for  they  were 
of  a  good  caste.  "  Those  sahibs  practice  witchcraft ; 
I  have  often  heard  of  men  falling  under  the  power  of 
their  words  and  beino;  mad  ever  afterward." 


THK  MAHAMIU  MKI.A.  229 

"  Xonsense ;  it  is  only  the  ignorant  chatter  of  the 
bazar.  You  and  I,  who  have  read  and  studied,  should 
know  better.  We  can  judge  of  a  thing  for  ourselves 
whether  it  be  true  or  false" — shaking  himself  loose 
from  his  brothers  detaining  hand — ''  and  I  can  find 
rest  in  these  words  and  in  the  worship  of  a  God  who 
is  pure  and  true  and  all-powerful." 

He  moved  forward  with  a  dozen  others  to  the  tent 
where  Carnton,  with  the  Bishop  beside  him,  drew 
them  for  quiet  conversation.  A  number  had  been 
pondering  the  matter  for  years,  having  got  their  first 
knowledge  of  Christ  from  leaflets  scattered  by  un 
known  hands.  To  others  it  was  new,  but  to  nearly 
all  it  had  come  home  to  their  hearts  with  a  force  not 
alone  of  the  speaker  and  his  words,  but  of  the  Spirit 
which  teaches  all  men  when  they  ';  will  to  know  of 
t!ie  doctrine." 

And  when  he  put  the  final  searching  question,  "  Do 
you  believe,  and  will  you  renounce  all  your  idols,  give 
np  all  your  sins  and  all  worldly  prospects,  if  need  be, 
and  cling  to  Christ,  being  baptized  as  a  sign  and  seal 
of  your  belief '.  "  there  was  a  ready  response  from  ten, 
Puran  Mul  among  the  first,  notwithstanding  the  per- 
>istvnt  protest  of  his  brother  and  friends  who  stood 
back  of  him,  hoping  still  to  dissuade  him. 

The  simple  but  impressive  ceremony  of  bapti>:n 
was  soon  performed  and  the  names  and  addresses  of 
the  men  recorded.  They  were  told  in  return  the 
names  of  the  native  preacher  or  missionary  nearest  to 
them,  and  arrangements  were  made  for  future  meet 
ings  and  books  and  papers  for  their  instruction. 

It  was  well  into  the  afternoon  when  the  mission 
aries  with  their  assistants,  English,  Eurasian,  and 


232  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

ceremony,  but  they  were  liking  him  better  than  at 
first.  He  was  less  self-assertive  with  his  preconceived 
ideas  and  notions ;  he  was  amenable  to  reason ;  he 
wore  a  cork  hat  and  carried  a  white-covered  umbrella  ; 
he  had  given  up  inviting  sunstroke  by  reckless  walks 
in  the  sun,  and,  more  than  all  else,  actually  had  the 
good  of  the  work  at  heart,  and  helped  in  any  way  and 
every  way  possible. 

"  Then,"  said  the  Bishop,  in  answer  to  Mackenzie's 
remark,  "I  would  suggest  putting  on  an  'extra'  or 
two,  and  let  there  be  less  hurry.  The  best  work  can 
never  be  done  in  a  hurry." 

"  Send  along  your  extras,  and  we  will  be  only  too 
glad  to  use  them.  There  is  not  a  mission  station 
where  one  more  man,  and  in  some  places  three  more 
men,  are  not  needed  to  prevent  dangerous  risks — dan 
gerous,  I  assure  you,  not  only  to  the  health  of  the 
workers,  but  to  the  best  interests  of  the  work.  But 
let  us  go  out ;  it  is  not  so  hot  now,  and  I  want  you  to 
see  the  whole  of  this  religious  festival ;  for  when  you 
have  seen  this  you  will  have  a  very  good  idea  of 
others  which  are  held  here  and  there  all  over  India, 
and  in  which  much  evangelical  work  is  done.  The 
native  people  look  forward  all  the  year  to  them,  for 
various  reasons :  the  women  chiefly  because  it  gives 
them  a  chance  for  change  and  amusement;  the  men 
the  same,  and  because  they  can  make  bargains,  arrange 
marriages  and  fulfill  vows,  and  enter  into  negotiations 
with  their  gods  for  children  and  for  prosperity  in. 
business.  Here  is  the  temple,  and  if  we  stand  here 
on  the  upper  veranda  of  this  empty  house  we  can 
cover  the  whole  ground." 

As  they  mounted  the  stairs  a  stream  of  people  was 


232  TIIK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

ceremony,  but  they  were  liking  him  better  than  at 
first.  He  was  less  self-assertive  witli  his  preconceived 
ideas  and  notions ;  he  was  amenable  to  reason ;  he 
wore  a  cork  hat  and  carried  a  white-covered  umbrella  ; 
he  had  given  up  inviting  sunstroke  by  reckless  walks 
in  the  sun,  and,  more  than  all  else,  actually  had  the 
good  of  the  work  at  heart,  and  helped  in  any  way  and 
every  way  possible. 

"  Then,"  said  the  Bishop,  in  answer  to  Mackenzie's 
remark,  "I  would  suggest  putting  on  an  'extra'  or 
two,  and  let  there  be  less  hurry.  The  best  work  can 
never  be  done  in  a  hurry." 

"  Send  along  your  extras,  and  we  will  be  only  too 
glad  to  use  them.  There  is  not  a  mission  station 
where  one  more  man,  and  in  some  places  three  more 
men,  are  not  needed  to  prevent  dangerous  risks — dan 
gerous,  I  assure  you,  not  only  to  the  health  of  the 
workers,  but  to  the  best  interests  of  the  work.  But 
let  us  go  out ;  it  is  not  so  hot  now,  and  I  want  you  to 
see  the  whole  of  this  religious  festival;  for  when  you 
have  seen  this  you  will  have  a  very  good  idea  of 
others  which  are  held  here  and  there  all  over  India, 
and  in  which  much  evangelical  work  is  done.  The 
native  people  look  forward  all  the  year  to  them,  for 
various  reasons :  the  women  chiefly  because  it  gives 
them  a  chance  for  change  and  amusement;  the  men 
the  same,  and  because  they  can  make  bargains,  arrange 
marriages  and  fulfill  vows,  and  enter  into  negotiations 
with  their  gods  for  children  and  for  prosperity  in 
business.  Here  is  the  temple,  and  if  we  stand  here 
on  the  upper  veranda  of  this  empty  house  we  can 
cover  the  whole  ground." 

As  they  mounted  the  stairs  a  stream  of  people  was 


THE  MAHAIJIU  MELA.  233 

pouring  toward  the  temple.  Many  with  cups  of  Gan 
ges  water,  brought  by  pilgrims  and  sold  at  a  good 
price,  which  they  placed  at  the  feet  of  the  god  ;  others 
with  garlands  of  white,  sweet-scented  flowers  which 
they  hung  near  or  threw  down  before  the  hideous  im 
age;  still  others  deposited  money  and  grain.  Over  be 
yond  the  temple  were  a  group  of  fakirs,  all  with  their 
pilgrims'  wooden  bowls  that  served  to  receive  money 
or  food,  and  from  which  they  ate — the  only  property 
they  had  except  a  dirty  cloth  about  their  loins.  Their 
long,  dirty  hair  hung  in  tangled  masses  down  over 
their  shoulders,  and  their  bodies  were  smeared  with 
mud.  Some  there  were  whose  vocation  was  to  lie 
flat  on  their  backs,  never  rising  but  twice  a  day  for 
food  and  water ;  others  with  holes  cut  in  their  flesh 
through  which  pieces  of  wood  were  thrust ;  still  others 
in  cramped  and  unnatural  positions  doing  penance  for 
sins.  Xear  them  were  deformities  of  various  kinds 
which  were  here  to  be  worshiped — cows  with  five  legs, 
calves  with  two  heads,  a  sheep  with  a  double  head,  a 
cat  with  a  rabbit's  stump  tail,  men  without  apparently 
any  bones  in  their  bodies  tying  their  legs  and  arms 
in  knots,  and  other  grotesque  creatures  equally  inter 
esting  to  these  strange,  childish  people. 

Out  away  from  the  temple  they  could  see  the  crowds 
broken  up  by  little  eddies  of  people  that  were  circling 
around  various  centers. 

"  Here,"  said  Mackenzie,  pointing  to  one  whirlpool, 
"  is  a  sort  of  Punch  and  Judy'  show,  only  Punch  is 
a  burlesque  Englishman  and  Judy  is  a  native  servant ; 
and  not  far  from  them  is  an  English  mission  tent, 
and  over  there  is  the  tent  of  the  ladies  of  our  mission; 
beyond  them,  the  center  of  interest,  is  a  merry-go- 


2-'U  THK  BISHOP'S  0<>.\\  KKSION. 


round.  At  the  left  is  another  English  mission, 
and  beyond  them  are  the  ladies  of  their  mission  at 
work  ;  and  here  comes  Rokewood,  later,  as  usual,  .than 
necessary,  for  he  has  walked,  sacrificing  a  third  of  the 
day  for  the  price  of  a  gari." 

"What  a  strange,  strange  scene!"  mused  the  Bishop 
—  "  this  huge  kaleidoscope  of  color  ;  this  sea  of  dark 
faces  with  perhaps  a  dozen  white  ones  among  them  ; 
and  in  this  dozen  people  the  goodness,  the  truth,  the 
civilization  and  intelligence  are  centered  —  the  thou 
sands  of  others  do  not  together  aggregate  as  much. 
They  remind  one  of  swarms  of  gnats  circling  round 
and  round  in  a  meaningless  way  ;  and  really  what 
does  it  all  mean,  this  swarm  of  humanity  left  so  long 
without  Christian  civilization  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell.  I  myself  feel  almost  overcome  with 
the  portent  of  life,  with  the  puzzle  of  humanity  when 
I  see  a  huge  beehive  like  this.  It  seems  to  be  too 
great  for  the  mind  to  ponder,  for  it  is  only  as  a  drop 
in  the  ocean  of  uncivilized,  un-Christianized  humanity. 
That  these  millions  should  be  born,  grow  up,  live,  and 
die  with  no  more  spiritual  life  than  your  gnats,  pre 
sents  a  greater  problem  than  I  can  solve,  or  ever  try 
to  solve.  But  look  !  over  there  near  where  Miller  is 
preaching  an  Arya  Somaj  man  is  warning  the  people 
not  to  leave  their  old  customs,  and  not  to  dare  come 
within  the  sound  of  the  voices  of  these  Padri  Sahibs 
who  are  emissaries  of  the  evil  one  —  that  there  is  en 
chantment  in  their  words  that  brings  evil  on  all  who 
listen  ;  not  only  on  them,  but  on  all  they  hold  dear/' 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  I  saw  one  of  them  this 
morning,  near  one  of  the  other  missionaries,  trying  to 
counteract  his  words  ;  but  what  I  was  going  to  say  is 


THE  MAHABIK  MELA. 

tin's :  while  the  task  is  so  great,  while  the  Immensity 
of  it  strikes  me  to-day  as  never  before,  I  have  also 
to-day  seen  more  of  the  work  I  can  especially  com 
mend  than  ever  before.  To-night  one  hundred  men 
will  go  to  sleep  with  the  name  of  God  on  their  lips 
who  rose  with  that  of  Harmman,  because  you  have 
to-day  gathered  all  your  forces  and  for  a  time  left 
the  plodding  work  of  making  books,  of  teaching 
geography  and  the  other  machinery  that  takes  your 
time.  What  could  be  accomplished  if  you  were  all 
to  leave  it  altogether  and  fulfill  our  ideas  of  mission 
work  is  almost  more  than  I  dare  think  when  so 
many  have  in  so  short  a  time  been  converted!  " 

"  As  /  reckon  time  it  has  not  been  so  very  short ; 
about  thirty  years  would  cover  the  time  it  has  taken 
to  effect  what  we  have  seemed  to  do  to-day.  Thirty 
years  ago  we  had  no  schools,  no  printing-presses,  no 
native  preachers,  no  Bible  women,  no  zenana  teachers, 
no  books  or  tracts  or  papers.  Nowhere  is  it  shown 
to  me  plainer  than  in  this  very  work  that  the  organic 
work  of  the  mission  must  come  first,  and  it  is  so  evi 
dent  to  me  that  I  hardly  know  how  to  prove  it  to 
you.  The  printing  which  you  want  to  put  aside  is 
responsible  for  some  of  the  best  of  our  converts  to 
day.  One  man  from  a  remote  village  in  the  country, 
for  instance,  was  given  the  gospel  of  St.  John,  in 
Urdu,  fourteen  years  ago  by  an  English  official.  He 
has  been  reading  it  to  his  friends  and  pondering  it  for 
years.  Happening — if  we  can  say  '  happen '  in  regard 
to  these  things — on  a  visit  to  some  friends  who  were 
coming  here,  he  came  with  them  and  was  ready  to 
hear  and  understand  the  truth,  which  otherwise 
probably  he  would  have  not  comprehended,  or  would 
17  " 


238  THE  BISHOP'S  CO.NVKKSION. 

not  have  been  interested  in.  lie  will  be  well  sup 
plied  with  books  and  papers  when  lie  returns,  and  in 
six  months  from  n<>w,  when  we  can  send  a  preacher, 
probably  the  whole  village  will  be  baptized.  Another, 
a  priest  who  found  the  gospel  of  Matthew  in  the  road, 
has  been  teaching  his  people  the  precepts  of  Christ 
for  years,  and  they  have  prayed  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
though  they  still  kept  up  their  idol  worship  in  a 
desultory  way,  because  it  was  the  blind  leading  the 
blind.  To-day  he  received  the  truth  gladly,  and  there 
will  be  another  village  soon  that  will  all  come  over. 
So  much  do  I  believe  in  the  power  of  printed  words  for 
these  people  that  if  I  could  I  would  fairly  flood  this 
great  empire  with  religious  and  moral  books  and 
pa  pel's.  It  is  a  transition  period  with  the  people,  and 
hence  an  impressionable  one.  They  have  begun  to 
read,  and  to  counteract  the  works  of  such  writers  as 
Zola,  Ouida,  or  Ingcrsoll,  and  others  equally  pernicious 
which  are  sold  here  cheap,  we  must  have  good  and 
attractive  cheap  books  and  papers,  and  plenty  of 
them  ;  and  right  here  I  want  to  say  that  if  you  will 
endow  the  publishing  work,  even  in  a  very  small  way, 
you  will  do  away  with  much  of  the  commercial  ilavor 
that  is  about  it,  and  to  which  you  have  objected/' 

"  There  is  one  thing,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  that  always 
strikes  me:  whatever  the  subject  in  hand  you  people 
generally  get  back  to  the  point  you  start  from — more 
money  to  enlarge  a  work  that  will  still  require  more 
money  to  keep  it  going.'' 

"Of  course;  but  when  people  are  so  poor  as  the 
great  mass  of  the  people  here,  even  though  self-sup 
port  is  taught  and  encouraged  among  them,  it  cannot 
for  years  amount  to  much.  What  can  a  man  who 


THE  MAIIABIK  MELA. 
earns   three  dollars  a  month   do  toward    building   a 

O 

church  after  he  has  paid  the  living  expenses  of  his 
family  '(  n 

"  Surely  not  much.  Consequently  I  do  not  see 
\vhere  the  support  is  to  come  from  when  you  have  a 
Church  of  ten  times  the  present  number." 

"  Chiefly  from  themselves,  for  as  they  grow  in  in 
telligence  they  command  higher  wages.  Some  of  the 
older  churches  are  not  only  supporting  their  pastor, 
but  supporting  other  work  ;  and  then  we  are  taking 
more  to  native  methods  of  work,  and  thus  are  cheap 
ening  it.  But  what  I  started  on  was  to  show  you 
that  the  organic  work  to  which  you  object  is  the 
backbone  of  the  structure,  and  it  would  be  a  useless 
affair  without  it,  even  if  it  would  be  in  existence 
enough  to  call  it  an  affair.  You  would  have  to  cut 
out  to-day  all  the  Bibles,  all  the  native  preachers,  all 
the  helpers  that  have  been  in  schools,  all  the  leaflets, 
all  the  hymn  books,  all  the  illustrated  papers,  and  you 
would  then  have  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing.  What 
could  we  do  without  a  translation  of  the  Bible  from 
which  to  read  or  quote?  What  could  we  do  without 
hymns  translated  and  set  to  their  own  tunes,  or  sung 
in  ours?  What  could  we  alone,  Carnton,  Miller,  and 
I,  and  the  lady  missionaries,  do  without  the  Bible 
women  and  native  preachers  and  Eurasian  assistants? 
IIo\v  could  wo  have  had  them  but  for  the  educational 
work?" 

"Of  course,  some  of  this  is  necessary,  but  you  will 
agree  that  it  should  not  be  put  first  ?  *' 

"  I  deny  that  we  put  it  first.  It  in  a  way  has  to  be 
done  before  others,  just  as  all  the  munitions  of  war 
havQ  to  be  made,  and  soldiers  drilled,  before  victory 


238  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVEKSION. 

can  be  achieved ;  but  no  one  would  say  that  it  was 
considered  more  important,  even  though  it  must 
come  first ;  and  I  will  say  this  also :  where  in  schools 
the  organic  work  becomes  an  end,  as  whenever  more 
is  thought  of  accouterments  and  drill  and  intrench- 
mcnts  than  the  gaining  the  victory,  there  it  is  an  evil. 
Otherwise  you  must  grant  that  it  is  the  only  way." 

"Could  you  r.ot  say  it  has  ~been  the  only  way?  Is 
not  that  day  passed  ?  The  Bibles  and  hymn-books 
are  here,  the  workers  are  here ;  what  more  do  we 
'  want  ? " 

"  We  want  more  books,  more  papers,  more  preach 
ers,  and  more  teachers ;  for  the  baptisms  are  increas 
ing  in  geometrical  ratio  to  the  other  work,  and  the 
building  up  of  workers  requires  time.  Kow,  of  these 
men  that  were  baptized  to-day  fifteen  are  clmmars, 
or  leather  workers,  from  one  village.  We  want  an  edu 
cated  man  to  put  at  once  in  that  village — educated  to 
the  extent  of  being  able  to  read  and  write  and  do  ac 
counts,  and  to  know  the  Bible  sufficiently  to  teach  it 
correctly,  and  to  have  been  insulated  in  a  Christian 
school  from  heathenism  long  enough  to  understand 
what  it  means  to  be  a  Christian  ;  and  I  assure  you,  after 
all,  that  is  the  most  important  qualification  in  the  man 
who  is  to  teach  new  converts." 

"  You  call  them  converts,  and  yet  imply  that  they 
do  not  know  what  it  means  to  be  a  Christian  ? " 

"  They  have  understood  with  their  hearts  but  not 
with  their  heads.  There  is  the  beginning  of  spiritual 
life  in  them.  I^ow,  for  instance,  a  baptized  man  may  be 
found  with  two  wives  in  his  house.  He  cannot  know 
it  is  a  sin,  for  his  old  religion  does  not  forbid  it,  and 
it  has  never  occurred  to  him  that  it  niight  be  a  sin. 


THK  MAIIABIK  MELA.  239 

There  are  other  things  that  they  will  not  understand 
they  must  leave  off.  There  must  be  a  man  to  teach 
them,  and  there  seems  to  be  none  available,  and  yet 
lie  must  be  found  or  their  last  state  will  be  worse  than 
their  first.  The  Christian  community  begun  with 
these  fifteen  men,  and  with  a  teacher-preacher,  as  he  is 
called,  to  lead  them,  will  be  doubled  and  perhaps 
quadrupled  at  the  end  of  the  year.  There  will  be  a 
mud  house  built,  costing,  perhaps,  fifty  dollars,  used 
for  a  church  on  Sundays  and  a  school  room  and  a 
place  for  dispensing  books  and  leaflets  during  the 
week.  From  this  as  a  center  other  villages  around 

o 

will  be  reached." 

"If  they  were  left  without  a  teacher  do  you  mean 
to  say  they  would  go  back  to  heathenism  ? " 

"Think  what  it  is  in  our  own  land  to  leave  even 
converts  who  have  lived  all  their  lives  surrounded  by 
Christians  and  well  knowing  what  a  Christian  should 
be ;  think  how  loath  you  are  to  leave  them,  even  within 
the  sound  of  a  dozen  church  bells,  without  direct  pas 
toral  care,  and  then  see  what  it  means  to  baptize  a 
man  that  has  had  one  day's  teaching,  and,  perhaps, 
has  been  previously  only  self-taught  by  reading  or  be 
ing  read  to  by  his  sons  or  his  neighbor's  sons,  and  leave 
him  among  a  lot  of  people  who  think  he  has  done  an 
act  to  bring  down  the  wrath  and  vindictiveness  of 
their  gods  on  himself  and  on  all  that  are  anyway  con 
nected  with  him,  and  whose  one  aim  is  to  reclaim 
him.  lie  must  be  taught ;  he  must  be  under  pastoral 
care  or  he  will  go  back  to  an  unbelieving  idolatry, 
which  is  worse  for  him,  far  worse,  than  his  first  state. 
Then  his  teacher  is  often  so  ignorant  himself  that 
books  and  papers  must  supplement  the  teaching — not 


240  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION*. 

many,  for  one  illustrated  paper  will  last  an  incredible 
time,  and  one  book,  if  it  be  the  right  sort,  will  be  suf 
ficient,  besides  his  Bible ;  but  these,  even  at  a  nom 
inal  price,  cost  more  than  he  can  afford.  There  is 
another  strong  reason  why  they  must  not  be  left  alone. 
Now,  for  instance,  this  Puran  Mul,  who  is  so  promis 
ing.  I  cannot  tell  yon,  nor  begin  to  tell  you,  what  he 
will  have  to  undergo  here  where  men  are  so  subservient 
to  their  parents.  Long  after  an  American  would  de 
cide  for  himself  they  will  yield  to  their  parents.  A 
case  that  has  just  happened  near  Madras  will  give  you 
a  little  idea  of  what  he  may  suffer.  A  young  man, 
by  name  Appu  Rao,  was  shut  up  for  six  weeks  in  a 
close,  dungeon-like  room  and  watched  day  and  night. 
Enchantment  and  violent  purgatives  were  resorted  to 
in  vain  to  drive  out  the  Christian  heresies  imbibed; 
pepper  and  cloves  sifted  in  his  eyes  did  not  enlighten 
them  ;  lime-juice  rubbed  daily  on  a  shaven  crown  did 
not  induce  wisdom  after  Brahman  judgment;  and 
though  his  Bibles  were  burned  before  his  face,  and 
the  ashes  mingled  with  his  drink,  his  well-stored 
memory  still  gave  out  its  riches  of  the  words  of  God 
to  cheer  and  sustain  and  to  meet  the  subtle  arguments 
of  vakis  and  gurus  and  the  tempt  ings  of  both  the 
loved  and  the  vicious ;  for  there  are,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
methods  resorted  to  in  these  cases  much  worse  than 
keeping  all  food  from  them.  Besides  all  this  were  the 
threats  of  powerful  neighbors,  among  whom  was  the 
magistrate  himself,  who  visited  the  house  constantly  to 
coax  or  threaten  the  man  into  apostasy.  One  niglir, 
his  watchers  being  sick  simultaneously,  Appu  Tiao  was 
left  alone,  and  raising  the  door  off  its  hinges  it  fell 
back,  though  still  Lx-ked.  and  he  escaped/' 


THE  M AHA] UK  MKI.A.  241 

"This  is  terrible!  Such  things  should  not  be 
allowed  by  the  English  government." 

"What  can  the  government  do  except  the  case  be 
brought  to  court?  The  man  does  not  complain,  lie 
is  taught  by  our  religion  when  he  is  reviled  to 
revile  not  again.  Wherever  we  can  keep  from  ap 
pealing  to  the  authority  of  the  government  we  do  so. 
It  is  not  '  by  might,  nor  by  power,'  that  we  expect 
to  conquer. 

"Now,  there  is  another  thing  :  if  our  schools  were 
given  up  as  you  would  suggest,  where  would  our 
Christian  children  be  educated?" 

"  Of  course  that  is  a  point.  They  could  not  be  put 
in  schools  where  they  would  be  taught  the  Vedas  or 
the  Koran." 

'.'And  where,"  urged  Mackenzie,  "would  we  find 
men — Christian  teachers  and  preachers — and  also 
where  would  we  find  wives  for  these  men  ?" 

"Let  them  be  taught  of  the  Spirit,  as  in  the  olden 
time." 

"  Would  that  work  in  our  Church  at  home?" 

"  Xo  ;  but  that  is  somewhat  different." 

"  O,v  sighed  Mackenzie,  "how  tired  one  gets  of 
those  indefinite  answers  of  good  people!  'It  is  dif 
ferent.'  'It  is  another  case.'  'It  is  not  the  same 
thing.'  But  perhaps  you  may,  when  you  have  been 
here  longer,  find  that  human  beings  are  much  the 
same,  and  the  fore  of  Christ's  teaching  is  improve 
ment  and  a  going  forward.  Speaking  to  them  and  tell 
ing  them  to  go  forward  is  hardly  necessary,  for  the 
religion  of  Christ  impels  forward.  You  cannot  stop  its 
impelling  force.  But  what  I  want  to  do  to-day  is  to 
put  you  to  thinking  in  regard  to  what  the  Church  is 


242  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVKKSIOX. 

going  to  do  with  all  tlieso  people  that  she  has  got  ami 
is  getting  on  her  hands.  A  thousand  a  month  will 
not  cover  the  converts  made  in  our  evangelical  work 
alone.  Now,  the  object  of  all  this  talk  on  my  part  is  to 
point  out  to  you  a  duty  you  have  incurred  by  coining 
here  where  you  can  see  things  as  they  are — that  is,  to 
help  make  the  Church  see  the  responsibility  she  has 
for  the  care  of  these  poor  creatures  to  whom  we  are 
giving  a  little  light.  We  can  win  them,  convert 
them,  but  the  Church  is  directly  responsible  for  their 
care ;  and  by  the  Church  I  mean  each  and  every  one 
who  believes  on  the  name  of  Christ.  Each  and 
every  one  has  as  much  responsibility  as  he  has  in 
fluence  and  money  that  he  might  use;  and  it  is  this 
you  must  impress  on  the  people  at  home.  But  let  us 
o-o  down  :  I  must  see  to  the  men  that  are  distributm*);; 

O  t  O 

books,  and  if  you  like  you  may  help  me  with  these 
leaflets ; "  and  he  gave  him  half  of  the  package  he  held 
in  his  hand. 

Mrs.  Clinton  had  been  taken  about  by  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie,  both  giving  out  leaflets  as  they  went  from 
group  to  group  of  the  lady  missionaries,  finding  them 
happy  and  busy  singing  or  teaching  the  words  of  life. 

The  leaflets  were  hymns  and  Scripture  selections 
printed  on  bright-colored  paper,  and  at  once  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  women,  who  sometimes  took 
them  hesitatingly  from  their  hands,  looking  at  the 
hats  and  dresses  and  faces  of  the  givers  with  strange, 
unaccustomed  eyes  that  told  the  ladies  that  they  might 
be  the  first  white  women  that  had  ever  been  near 
these  shy  creatures.  Others  evidently  wanted  the 
leaflets,  but,  fearing  contamination  by  taking  them 
from  white  hands,  held  out  their  chuddars,  in  which 


THE  MAIIABIR  MELA.  243 

the  ladies  dropped  the  papers,  being  careful  not  to 
touch  the  garment.  Still  others  motioned  them  to 
throw  the  papers  on  the  ground,  from  which  they 
would  he  picked  up  after  the  donors  were  far  enough 
awav,  so  that  there  might  be  no  contamination  from 
their  shadows.  Some  there  were,  however,  who  would 
gather  up  their  skirts  and  draw  away  with  scornful 
glances  and  describe  a  half-circle  around  them,  and 
would  not  touch  even  a  paper  from  the  hands  of  such 
dreadful  people,  sure  that  their  sons  would  die  or  be 
come  mad,  or  that  even  their  husbands  might  die  if 
they  more  than  looked  at  the  bold  Mem  Sahibs  who 
went  about  witli  their  faces  uncovered. 

Mrs.  Clinton  liked  distributing  leaflets,  and  would 
have  been  happy  to  have  gone  on  until  dark,  but  she 
found  herself  ready  to  faint  after  two  or  three  hours, 
and  begged  Mrs.  Mackenzie  to  take  her  away.  The 
latter  was  quite  willing,  as  she  had  work  to  do  on 
their  paper,  and  also  because  Katie  was  far  from  well, 
and  she  could  not  free  herself  from  anxiety  about  her, 
although  Lillian  was  spending  the  day  at  the  house, 
and  she  always  felt  happier  when  she  did  not  have  to 
leave  her  quit^  alone.  So  they  asked  Carnton  to  help 
find  their  gari  for  them  and  to  bring  the  Bishop 
home  with  him  when  he  came. 

As  they  were  about  to  get  in  Sidney  Mellen  passed 
them  with  Mary  Harris,  one  of  her  assistants.  Carn 
ton -lifted  his  sola  topi  gravely,  and  she  acknowledged 
it  distantly,  while  her  greeting  to  the  ladies  was  as 
cordial  as  usual. 

Mrs.  Clinton's  brow  contracted.  Something  M*as 
going  wrong  in  this  love  story,  in  which  from  the 
beginning  she  had  been  interested,  and  she  only  half 


244  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

nodded  in  answer  to  the  lifted  eyebrows  and  inquir 
ing  look  Mrs.  Mackenzie  directed  toward  Carntoifs 
back. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  as  they  drove 
off,  "and  it  would  be  a  capital  arrangement,  for  they 
seem  just  suited  to  each  other.*' 

"  And  it  is  so  hard  for  a  girl  to  be  alone  in  a  terri 
ble  country  like  this ;  it  is  too  hard  altogether,"  re 
joined  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"  Yes,  though  it  is  about  as  hard  with  a  husband 
and  little  children  to  be  anxious  about ;  still,  it  is 
something  to  have  the  support  of  constant  love  and 
sympathy  that  no  freedom  from  anxiety  can  compen 
sate.  At  any  rate,  whatever  we  think,  if  he  wishes 
to  marry  her  he  probably  will,  for  he  impresses  one 
as  being  able  to  carry  out  anything  he  undertakes. 
As  I  had  not  seen  them  together  of  late  I  thought 
probably  there  was  nothing  in  it,  though  some  way 
the  native  Christians  seem  to  take  it  for  granted." 

Mrs.  Clinton  reflected.  She  too  had  not  seen  them 
together  of  late ;  in  fact,  not  since  the  day  of  the 
prince's  visit.  From  the  distant  greeting  to-day,  and 
that  cold  look  on  Sidney's  face  of  hardly  seeing  Carn- 
ton,  she  inferred  things  could  not  be  going  right ;  she 
hoped  Carnton  would  not  have  to  suffer,  for  she 
was  fond  of  him  and  thought  of  him  already  almost 
as  a  son.  She  had  often  said  to  her  husband  that  she 
would  almost  be  willing  their  sons,  who  were  respect 
ively  nineteen  and  twenty-one  years  old,  should  be 
missionaries  could  they  be  so  noble  and  strong  and 
wise  as  he. 

Xow  she  could  recall  instances  of  Sidney's  evident 
avoidance  of  him,  and  once  of  his  being  unaccount- 


THE  MAHABIR  MELA.  245 

ably  away  when  Sidney  had  come  to  spend  the  even 
ing  with  them,  and  while  she  talked  with  Mrs. 
Mackenzie  she  still  wondered  and  pondered  as  women 
will- 
But  what  did  these  two  women  mean  ?  Were  they 
in  league  against  the  society  which  had  sent  out  Sid 
ney,  one  of  its  brightest  and  sweetest  protegees,  and 
one  from  whom  was  expected  so  many  years  of  un 
swerving  devotion,  simply  because  she  had  never 
seemed  to  care  for  any  man  in  her  life? — which  latter 
fact,  had  they  been  wise,  would  have  made  them  less 
instead  of  more  sure  of  her. 

Perhaps  Mrs.  Clinton  thought  if  Carnton.  fell  in  love 
with  one  of  another  mission  he  would  not  and  could 
not  take  one  of  the  young  ladies  sent  out  from  the 
society  in  which  she  was  especially  interested ;  so  that 
no  complaints  of  falling  away  caused  by  him  could  be 
presented  to  her  ears. 

Still,  it  might  be  simply  that  no  woman  is  able  to 
look  coldly  on  a  love  story  ;  that,  whether  young  or  old, 
it  has  a  deep  fascination  for  her.  It  may  be  a  matter 
of  wonder  that  this  is  true  when  they  know  well 
what  a  prosperous  love  story  costs  a  woman.  Per 
haps  they  forget  to  count  the  cost,  and  perhaps  it  is 
as  well  for  the  success  of  the  love  story  that  they  do. 
When  the  two  mothers  hurried  out  of  their  gari 
and  around  to  the  back  of  the  house — for  the  front 
was  still  closed — hurried  as  all  mothers  do  in  this  un 
certain  land  when  they  have  been  away  from  their 
children  long,  with  the  ever-present  fear  of  some  ca 
lamity  falling  in  their  absence,  they  heard  sounds  of 
a  Ilindoostanee  translation  of  "Sweet  J>y  and  By" 
being  sung  in  the  dining  room.  Mrs.  Mackenzie  sig- 


246  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

naled  to  Mrs.  Clinton  to  step  softly.  Peeping  through 
the  shutters  they  saw  Lillian,  Katie,  and  Sarah,  the 
native  Christian  woman  who  was  always  with  Lillian 
when  her  mother  was  away,  sitting  on  the  floor  at 
one  end  of  the  dining  room,  and  the  servants  and  their 
wives  and  children  sitting  about  them,  or,  more  cor 
rectly,  the  babies  were  rolling  on  the  floor. 

When  they  had  finished  the  hymn  Katie  said, 
"  Now,  Lillian,  you  must  read  in  the  Bible;"  but 
Lillian  passed  it  on  to  Sarah,  who  took  it  willingly 
and  read,  swaying  backward  and  forth,  in  a  most 
wonderful  intonation,  a  few  verses  on  which  Katie 
catechised  them  in  what  Mrs.  Mackenzie  recognized 
as  an  absurd  parody  of  her  own  manner,  and  then 
they  all  fell  on  their  faces  in  the  true  Mohammedan 
style,  and  Katie  prayed  in  Hindoostanee  part  of  her 
own  evening  prayer,  and  wound  np  with  a  petition 
that  God  would  "make  all  present  honest  and  truth 
ful  if  he  could ;"  which  might  have  been  considered 
somewhat  personal. 

Then  Lillian  began  also  with  part  of  her  evening 
prayer,  adding  petitions  for  the  native  people,  and  to 
her  mother's  surprise  and  almost  terror  she  prayed 
that  God  wrould  make  her  good  enough  when  she 
grew  lip  to  be  a  missionary,  like  Miss  Mellen,  to  the 
nativa  women,  to  teach  them  about  Christ. 

She  was  followed  by  Kalan,  the  fat  cook,  who 
looked  comical  enough  in  his  short  ever-dirty  cooking 
coat,  and  he  in  turn  by  Sarah  ;  then  with  a  repetition 
of  "Sweet  By  and  By,"  perhaps  because  Katie  did 
not  feel  safe  to  try  any  other,  the  meeting  closed,  and 
the  mothers,  with  smiles  on  their  lips  and  tears  in 
their  eyes,  came  in  at  one  door  as  the  congregation, 


THE  MAHABIK  MELA.  247 

looking  a  little  shamefaced,  vanished  through  the 
other,  Katie  expediting  their  retreat  by  picking  up 
the  squirming  babies  and  lugging  them  out  on  to  the 
veranda,  from  which  they  rolled  and  tumbled  to  their 
own  houses. 

Mrs.  Clinton  said  to  herself  in  irony  tinged  with 
self-contempt : 

"  I  have  often  urged  upon  young  ladies  the  beauty 
and  desirability  of  a  life  spent  as  a  foreign  missionary, 
and  I  have  consoled  their  mothers  by  telling  them 
that  a  mother  could  not  have  a  greater  blessing  than 
a  daughter  noble  enough  to  give  up  home,  friends, 
and  all  that  makes  life  attractive  for  the  purpose  of 
uplifting  poor  ignorant  people  who  are  nothing  to  her 
personally.  O,  yes,  I  have  talked  very  well,  and  I 
thought  I  believed  what  I  said,  but  when  it  comes  to 
Lillian  it  is  another  thing  ;  the  beauty  and  desir 
ability  seem  to  wane,  and  I  can  only  hope  she  will  be 
less  tenacious  of  this  idea  than  she  is  of  most  plans 
she  makes." 


24:8  TIIK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

IX     T  II  K     Z  K  X  A  X  .V  S. 

FTUIE  days  went  on  and  Lucknow  grew  hotter  and 
\_  hotter,  until  there  came  a  time  when  the  earth, 
heated  seven  times,  refused  to  do  anything  but  to 
give  viciously  back  the  heat  that  was  poured  upon 
it;  when  the  air,  filled  with  burning  sand,  gave  its 
help  to  the  sun  ;  when  tall  columns  of  dust  marched 
up  and  down  the  streets,  and  when  the  sky,  unsympa 
thetic  as  burnished  brass,  gave  no  relief.  The  birds, 
with  parched  throats,  panted  their  lives  out  on  the 
dust-covered  branches  and  dropped  dead  on  the  bare 
ground,  excepting,  of  course,  the  fiendish  "  brain-fever '' 
bird,  which  one  hoped  would  die  before  his  prodding, 
stabbing  note  had  driven  his  hearers  into  the  brain 
fever  of  which  he  was  always  shrieking,  and  his 
brother-fiend,  the  "blacksmith"  bird,  with  his  never- 
censing  metallic  note,  that  Mrs.  Clinton  could  not 
distinguish  sometimes  from  the  heavy  throbbing  in 
her  head;  which  proved  that  the  two  together,  added 
to  the  heat,  might  do,  in  the  way  of  producing  brain 
trouble,  what  one  could  not  alone. 

The  Clinton  family,  taken  together,  were  giving  the 
busy  people  of  the  mission  no  little  anxiety. 

First,  Lillian  began  to  look  like  a  pale  little  ghost, 
then  her  mother  turned  into  a  companion  ghost,  with 
weary  eyes  and  despairing  face  ;  not  that  she  was  un- 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  249 

happy,  but  the  heat  \vas  taking  her  strength  inch  by 
inch,  and  .she  \vas  fighting  it  with  all  the  obstinacy 
born  of  a  determination  to  prove  herself  not  in  the 
wrong.  She  had  yielded  every  one  of  the  points  m 
which  she  had  thought  the  missionaries  mistaken  but 
t\vo,  and  they  were  punkahs  and  a  vacation  in  the 
hills,  unless  one  were  ill. 

JSTo\v,  punkah  is  a  generic  term  that  includes  all 
kinds  of  fans,  even  to  the  fire  bellows,  but  when  ono 
speaks  of  punkahs  usually  he  means  the  long  plank 
or  pole  swung  by  ropes  from  the  ceiling,  to  which  is 
attached  a  wide  flounce  of  white  starched  muslin.  A 
rope  tied  to  the  center  of  the  pole  extends  out  on  to 
the  veranda,  where  a  cooly  sits  and  pulls  this  rope. 
From  "the  middle  of  April  to  the  middle  of  October 
these  punkahs  swing  night  and  day  in  all  European 
homes,  and  in  many  native  homes.  They  arc  disagree 
able,  cumbersome,  and  add  to  the  expense  of  the 
household  and  a  great  deal  to  the  annoyance,  for  they 
knock  off  pugris  and  chuddars,  they  are  a  bar  to  all 
tidiness  of  hair,  the}T  blow  papers  and  letters  about 
when  one  tries  to  write,  they  destroy  any  pleasant  or 
attractive  appearance  a  room  may  have,  and  they  are 
generally  irritating  to  the  temper. 

However,  there  is  one  trilling  redeeming  quality : 
they  are  absolutely  necessary  to  work  and  even  life 
in  India,  and  one  becomes  resigned  to  them  after  five 
or  ten  minutes  of  work  in  a  room  without  them,  and 
hurries  back  dripping  with  perspiration  and  with 
bursting  head  to  sink  exhausted  on  a  couch  under 
one  of  these  swaying  evils. 

Mrs.  Clinton  had  set  her  face  against  punkahs,  es 
pecially  because  of  the  vague  rumors  which  had  gon:1 


250  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

about  at  home  of  missionaries  "  having  men  fan  them 
while  they  did  nothing."  She  had  denied  it  indig 
nantly  many  times  when  begging  for  missions,  and 
she  was  now  going  to  show  the  missionaries  that  pun 
kahs  were  not  necessary,  for  she  did  not  know  just 
how  she  could  have  the  face  to  ask  for  all  the  money 
she  meant  to  ask  on  her  return  if  she  were  obliged  to 
say  that  they  had  had  a  half-dozen  men  or  more  to  do 
their  work,  and  two  merely  to  fan  them,  and,  worse 
than  all,  often  to  fan  when  they  themselves  were  do 
ing  nothing. 

Mrs.  Clinton  had  to  acknowledge  to  doing  nothing 
more  hours  in  the  day  than  she  liked.  They  rose  at 
four  or  five  to  get  a  little  air  that  was  fit  for  breathing 
purposes,  and  that  they  might  work  while  moderation 
of  heat  made  it  possible ;  bat  after  nine  each  day  she 
lay  on  the  cane  couch,  and  Lillian  lay  on  another, 
made  of  the  stalks  of  kusi  grass,  in  the  sitting  room, 
because  that  was  the  coolest  room.  This  room,  in 
order  to  keep  out  the  hot  air  and  the  glare  of  the  sun. 
was  shut  so  close  that  it  was  impossible  to  read  or 
work;  but,  even  had  it  not  been  so,  they  were  too 
stupid  and  weak  and  too  overcome  with  the  heat  to 
do  anything  but  lie  quiet,  sometimes  in  a  sort  of  stu 
por,  and  sometimes  asleep,  until  four  o'clock,  when 
they  would  drag  themselves  into  their  bath  room,  and, 
after  a  bath,  dress  while  the  perspiration  poured  off 
of  them  and  while  they  felt  almost  too  faint  and 
giddy  to  stand. 

If  Mrs.  Clinton  ever  ventured  to  lift  the  dark  shade 
of  the  small  window  in  her  bath  room — the  only  win 
dow  in  the  house — and  look  out  on  the  sun-baked 
earth,  the  dry  trees,  the  birds  panting  like  weary  dogs 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  251 

or  fallen  to  the  scorching  sand  beneath,  saw  the  air 
filled  with  clouds  of  dust,  and  the  brave  little  ponies 
drawing  the  rattling  ekkas,  their  drivers  sitting  with 
their  dirty  chuddars  wrapped  around  their  heads  to 
keep  off  the  hot  wind,  she  dropped  it  quickly,  and 
the  tears  rolled  unchecked  down  her  colorless  face  as 
she  tried  in  vain  to  believe  that  somewhere  at  that 
very  moment,  somewhere  there  were  orchards  in 
bloom,  fresh  green  pastures,  where  cattle  stood  ki'u-e- 
deep  in  moist  grass  ;  and  there  really  were,  somewhere 
cool  springs  of  water  surrounded  by  fresh  ferns  under 
the  shade  of  dustless  forest  trees.  It  was  not  possible 
to  believe  it ;  the  whole  world  was  only  a  dreary 
burning  furnace,  which  was  peopled  by  me.i  and 
women  who  were  living  because  they  were  too  ex 
hausted  and  tired  to  die  ! 

The  Bishop  himself  was  feeling  the  climate  to  the 
fullest  extent  of  its  power  of  making  a  person  un 
comfortable,  though  he  was  able  to  do  more  work 
than  his  wife. 

The  waves  of  heat  that  went  over  his  body  to  his 
head,  caused,  perhaps,  by  his  full,  sanguine  tempera 
ment  and  plethoric  body,  were  partly  robbed  of  their 
deadly  quality  by  prickly  heat.  People  have  a  most 
ungrateful  way  of  dreading  this  disease,  for  its  marks, 
though  disfiguring,  are  a  sort  of  flag  flying  or  an  ex 
ponent  indicating  that  there  is  none  of  the  fatal  and 
insidious  fever  or  not  much  danger  of  apoplexy. 
It  is  simply  a  thick  rash  caused  by  profuse  perspi 
ration.  Profuse  perspiration  has  other  evils  besides 
this.  It  makes  cuffs  and  collars,  as  well  as  starched 
linen,  impossible,  likewise  dry  clothes,  unless  a  change 
is  made  every  hour  of  the  day.  "Rivers  of  water" 
18 


252  THK  BISHOP'S  CONN  KKSIOX. 

run  clown  the  face,  dropping  off  of  the  various  eaves 
formed  by  the  eyebrows,  the  ears,  the  nose,  and  the 
chin,  and  one  big  river  down  the  spinal  column,  fed 
by  tributaries  from  the  table-lands  of  the  shoulder- 
blades,  but,  worst  of  all,  every  drop  and  every  rivulet 
leaves  a  train  of  nettle  stings  in  its  wake,  and  these 
maddening  stings  are  the  first  indication  that  prickly 
heat  lias  marked  you  for  its  own.  Bad  as  it  is,  pain 
ful  and  uncomfortable  as  it  undoubtedly  is,  this  is  not 
the  most  aggravating  phase  of  the  disease.  AY  hen 
the  usual  question  is  put  to  you  as  to  your  health  in 
this  trying  season  and  your  answer  is  "  Miserable." 
your  friend  quickly,  with  the  face  of  concern  that  the 
suggestion  of  illness  always  brings  in  this  terrible 
time — for  no  one  knows  when  it  once  begins  where  it 
is  going  to  fetch  up — inquires  what  is  the  trouble. 
But  your  answer,  given  in  actual  torment  and  distress, 
'•Prickly  heat,''  only  calls  forth  an  indifferent,  "  O, 
that  is  nothing  ;  it  is  good  for  you." 

Then  you  begin  to  feel  the  old  aboriginal  blood 
stirring  in  you  which  would  lead  you  to  take  the  life 
of  your  neighbor;  but  it  is  checked  at  once,  and  yon 
content  yourself  with  a  wish  nearly  as  bad.  but  lawful  : 
you  wish  your  friend  to  have  this  thing  forever  that 
is  so  good  for  people,  this  stinging,  irritating,  tantalis 
ing  prickly  heat. 

The  Bishop  had  it  as  bad  as  possible,  and  all  those 
to  whom  he  spoke  of  it  smiled  with  perhaps  a  touch 
of  malice;  at  least  with  amused  satisfaction,  feeling 
it  was  a  sort  of  poetic  justice.  (  Vrtainly  any  lin 
gering  resentment  thev  mav  have  had  at  the  self- 
sufficient  attitude  he  had  taken  0:1  his  arrival  in  In- 
vlia  vanished  about  this  time.  Thev  mav  have  felt 


IN  THE  ZKXAXAS. 

that  two  or  three  months  of  tin's  especial  affliction 
would  amply  avenge  any  wrongs  they  had  suffered  at 
his  hands  ;  and  as  for  his  wife,  all.  even  Mrs.  Mackenzie, 
forgot  everything  but  the  fear  tliev  had  that  she  was 

o  •/  c?  «/ 

carrying  her  experiment  too  far. 

The  Bishop  felt  the  need  of  punkahs  less  than  his 
wife,  perhaps,  for  he  was  often  out  till  eleven  in  the 
morning,  sitting  under  a  punkah  in  the  college,  where 
lie  was  giving  some  regular  lectures  in  English,  or  at 
the  publishing  house  planning  out  tracts  with  Macken 
zie,  or  here  and  there,  and  would  come  home  to  break 
fast  and  fall  asleep  in  his  study  quite  overcome,  or 
perhaps,  finding  he  could  not  successfully  compete  with 
the  power  of  the  heat,  would  go  off  to  his  bed  and  sleep 
two  go'od  hours.  Even  then  he  only  ffot  his  usual 

O  *J        O 

anjount  of  sleep,  for  when  a  man  begins  work  at 
five  and  goes  to  bed  at  eleven  or  twelve  it  is  not 
strange  that  sleep,  assisted  by  intense  and  oppressive 
heat  of  a  thoroughly  foreign  climate,  overpowers 
him. 

This  sly,  insidious  climate,  which  says,  "I  am  not 
so  bad  after  all ;  you  can  live  with  me  if  you  only  try,'' 
is  all  the  time  gradually  putting  water  in  your  veins 
instead  of  good  red  blood,  and  turning  your  hair  gray 
in  one  season  ;  but  the  rooms  are  dark  and  you  do 
not  see  it,  nor  would  you  care  if  you  did,  for,  with 
other  things,  it  steals  your  care  for,  or  interest  in, 
yourself.  This  vile  climate — it  taps  you  all  over  like 
a  hungry  fly,  and  finally,  finding  the  weak  point  in 
vour  body,  begins  its  silent  work.  Perhaps  vour 
grandfather  had  consumption — the  bad  air.  the  great 
lowering  of  the  temperature  from  noon  to  midnight 
at  all  times  of  the  year,  weakens  and  takes  all  strength 


'2~>4  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

or  fiber  from  the  lungs  ;  or  there  is  a  little  defect  of 
liver — it  is  made  the  most  of  ;  or  there  is  a  tendency 
to  eat  nothing  or  to  indigestion — it  is  seized  on,  and 
then  comes  cholera  and  sweeps  you  off  at  once  ;  or 
you  are  strong  and  stout,  and  there  is  congestion  of 
the  brain  or  apoplexy. 

Knowing  all  these  things,  the  members  of  the  mis 
sion  circle  were  anxious  in  regard  to  this  family  of 
self-appointed  exiles.  There  was  no  imperative  duty 
keeping  them,  and  it  was  a  time  either  to  flee  or  to 
take  the  best  personal  care  ;  the  latter  involved  three 
things — willingness  to  do  it,  knowing  how,  and  having 
the  means  with  which  to  do  it. 

Finally,  when  Miss  Whitlow  was  ordered  to  the 
mountains  for  a  month  by  the  doctor  she  told  Mrs. 
Clinton  that  they  all  ought  to  come  with  her  ;  bnt  no, 
Mrs.  Clinton  said  : 

"  We  will  do  as  others  do.  When  the  doctor  tells 
ns  that  it  is  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  our  lives 
to  go,  then  we  will  go,  but  not  otherwise,"1  thinking 
in  her  heart  that  she  would  not  go  until  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie  did,  at  least. 

This  sort  of  dull,  obstinate  despair  is  not  uncom 
mon  to  worn-out  people  in  that  weary  land,  for  they 
get  a  settled  conviction  that  no  change  will  make 
things  any  better;  they  hope  to  hold  out  until  the 
cooler  weather  comes ;  but  it  does  not  seem  to  matter 
much,  for  it  is  a  notable  fact  that  good  judgment  de 
parts  with  the  departure  of  red  blood  from  the  system. 

Lucky  are  they  if  in  this  comatose  state  of  strength 
and  reason  some  good  friend  rises  up  and  drives  them, 
by  various  threatenings  and  scoldings,  off  to  the  home 
land  or  to  the  mountains.  They  go,  often  angry  an-] 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  255 

resentful  of  the  interference,  as  they  call  it ;  but 
when  once  more  returning,  clothed  in  strength  and  in 
their  right  minds,  they  laugh  at  their  own  obstinacy 
while  earnestly  thanking  their  friend  in  need. 

Too  often — ah,  ho\v  much  too  often  ! — no  friend 
rises  up  to  protect  them  from  themselves  ;  perhaps  the 
temporary  loss  to  the  work  is  thought  too  great  to 
permit  the  absence,  and  thus  a  great  permanent  loss 
to  the  work  is  risked  once  too  often  and  there  is  an 
other  blank  in  the  Conference  roll,  another  sad-eyed 
woman  in  black  is  left  to  wonder  why  the  demands 
of  God's  work  are  made  so  heavy,  or  some  helpless 
little  children  are  sent  with  a  bewildered,  grief-stricken 
father  across  the  water  to  find  home  and  care  as  best 
they  may. 

So  Mackenzie,  who  did  not  mind  saying  anything 
that  he  thought  right  to  say,  told  the  Bishop  that  he 
was  risking  his  own  life  and  the  lives  of  his  wife  and 

O 

child  by  the  course  lie  was  pursuing. 

After  some  persuasion,  and  without  saying  that 
going  without  punkahs  was  none  of  his  own  doing,  the 
Bishop  ordered  punkahs,  and  superintended  their  put 
ting  up,  for  it  is  doubtful  whether  Mrs.  Clinton  had 
strength  enough  left  to  oversee  it  herself,  as  the 
Bishop  saw  with  alarm  that  she  had  none  left  to  op 
pose  it. 

Then  he  arranged  for  ice  to  be  sent  every  day,  for 
some  bitter  waters,  and  twice  a  day  the  cook  was 
ordered  to  bring  them  beef-tea.  This  was  all  at  Mac 
kenzie's  suggestion,  and  there  was  a  visible  brighten 
ing  all  around.  Then  Lillian's  winter  clothes  was 
got  out  and  she  was  sent  off  with  Miss  Whitlow  to 
Naini  Tal,  to  the  girls'  school,  where  she  was  to  be 


256  THE  BISHOP'S  TON  VERSION. 

cured  for,  but  not  allowed  to  study.  This  also  Mrs. 
Clinton  did  not  oppose,  for  about  this  time  news  was 
coining  in  of  the  havoc  being  made  by  the  hot  weather 
in  the  ranks  north  and  south. 

News  from  Rangoon  of  a  young  strong  man  fall 
ing  dead  before  his  wife's  face;  from  Bangalore  of  a 
wife,  iincL-r  physician's  orders  tor  a  home  climate, 
who  had  begged  her  husband  to  let  her  stay  another 
year  that  he  might  not  be  working  alone,  sinking 
quickly  under  unexpected  pressure  of  circumstances, 
and  now  he  was  to  be  forever  alone.  From  Cawn- 
poor  the  hands  of  another  worker  slipping  unwill 
ingly  off  from  work  passionately  loved,  loved  more, 
perhaps,  for  the  very  fact  that  it  had  in  four  short 
years  bleached  her  black  hair  to  a  snow;  and  from 
one  and  another  station  rumors  of  prostration  and 
fever.  It  was  a  time  to  look  sharp,  to  go  softly 
and  hope  for  better  times,  and  it  was  now  that  the 
Bishop  thought  the  house,  that  had  seemed  so  large, 
too  small  and  close ;  it  was  now  that  he  would  have 
given  much  for  vegetables  and  fruit;  it  was  now 
that  the  meat  was  as  tender  and  palatable  as  boiled 
leather,  the  milk  three  fourths  water  and  perfectly 
impossible  as  a  drink;  it  was  now  that  he  had  grave 
thoughts  of  importing  vegetables  and  fruit  from  Eng 
land  and  America,  and  rashly  invested  in  tinned  veg 
etables,  though  they  were  said  to  be  unsafe  and  many 
cases  of  poisoning  had  been  known. 

And  it  was  now  Mrs.  Clinton  would  have  been  glad 
of  something  bright  to  look  at  in  her  dreary  rooms — 
some  pictures  of  snow,  or  of  green  fields,  or  of  flow 
ers;  of  anything  to  relieve  the  blankness  of  it  all; 
anything  to  keep  her  mind  on  but  the  thought  of 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  257 

work  she  wished  to  do  and  could  not ;  anything  but 
the  thought  of  other  people  who  were  overworking, 
sick,  or  even  dying,  for  with  all  other  people,  as  well 
as  with  them,  life  was  going  heavily. 

All  work  went  on  with  a  great  effort,  and  none 
more  laboriously  than  the  zenana  work  in  which  Mrs. 
Clinton  had  especially  interested  herself.  She  liked 
it;  it  was  attractive  work — in  the  two  months  of 
bearable  weather — but  after  that  each  week  she  left 
more  and  more  of  the  work  to  Georgiana,  the  Bible 
woman,  with  whom  she  always  went. 

Often,  as  the  narrow  lanes  and  byways  and  open 
sewers  became  more  and  more  overpowering,  when 
the  hot,  stifling  little  rooms  made  her  gasp  for  breath, 
when. some  interesting  child  disappointed  her,  or  some 
woman  in  whom  she  believed  and  of  whom  she  had 
grown  fond  developed  startling- proclivities  to  evil— 
often  Mrs.  Clinton  would  compare  her  old  romantic 
idea  of  zenana  visiting  with  the  reality  and  wonder 
how  she  could  have  been  so  mistaken.  Sometimes 
she  would  blame  the  missionaries  who  had  told  of 
this  life  that  they  had  left  the  shadows  to  the  imagi 
nation. 

But  she  forgot  that  the  worst,,  the  saddest,  the 
most  terrible  things  are  those  that  from  their  very 
nature  could  not  be  told  from  a  public  platform,  and 
even  if  they  could  would  a  good  soldier  ever  tell  of 
the  difficulties  ?  Hardly,  for  it  is  too  much  like  sound 
ing  his  own  praises. 

Perhaps  she  finally  saw  this,  but  she  determined 
that  when  she  saw  zenana  missionaries  standing  on 
platforms  and  telling  of  dearly  bought  victories  as 
though  they  were  a  simple  matter  of  course  she 

O  t/  X 


THE  BISHOP'S  COXVKKSIOX. 

would  rise  and  tell  the  people  to  lill  in  between  tlie 
lines  all  that  imagination  would  allow  them  of  details, 
of  difficulties,  ot*  sickening  odor.-,  of  constant  con 
tagion,  of  stifling  air  that  brings  a  deadly  faint  ness  to 
the  body,  of  vile  lives  whose  details  are  so  confused 
with  the  heat  and  the  stench  that  one  can  hardly  tell 
which  it  is  that  most  fills  one  with  loathing  of  life. 

She  would  tell  them  this,  and  of  the  going  through 
all  this  and  more,  upheld  by  the  dire  need  of  these 
people  for  something  better,  and  by  the  certain  indi 
cations  that  good  was  being  done,  until  perhaps  an 
unthinking,  meaningless  word  arouses  suspicion  in 
these  ever-suspicious  minds,  and  the  doors  in  these 
walls  are  closed  and  nothing  can  open  them,  and  the 
zenana  teacher  is  crushed  by  the  thought  that  perhaps 
because  of  her  own  imperfect  teaching  those  that  she 
thought  emerging  into  light  have  sunk  back  into 
darkness  and  obscurity. 

It  was  something  like  this  that  was  taking  the  color 
out  of  Sidney  Mellen's  face  earlier  than  usual,  and 
perhaps  it  was  not  all  this,  though  as  the  heat  grew 
fiercer  and  fiercer  it  was  enough  to  blanch  the  face 
of  anyone,  young  or  old. 

Perhaps  Carnton  had  something  to  do  with  the  fact 
that  she  was  not  standing  the  hot  season  quite  as  well 
as  usual.  Certainly  the  brightness  and  extra  interest 
that  her  first  acquaintance  with  him  had  thrown 
around  her  work  had  vanished,  though  she  could 
hardly  tell  when  the  sympathetic  friend  she  had  found 
and  claimed  had  disappeared,  and  only  a  man  who 
rather  disapproved  of  her  and  all  she  did  was  left  in 
his  place. 

It  was  hard — she  did  not  deny  it  was  hard — and 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  259 

she  rebelled  against  many  things,  but  first  and  fore 
most  against  her  sex,  that  would  not  permit  her  to  go 
to  him  and  say : 

"Why  are  you  disappointing  me?  Is  friendship 
so  common  a  thing  that  you  can  take  it  up  gladly  foi 
a  moment  only  to  tire  of  it  and  throw  it  down  the 
next?" 

This  was  what  she  said  to  herself  when  daylight 

«/        ~ 

stared  her  in  the  face ;  but  sometimes  in  the  dead  of 
night,  when  she  was  alone  in  the  heavy  darkness,  did 
she  tell  herself  the  truth,  or  what,  she  would  say  with 
a  face  hot  with  waves  of  blood,  might  possibly  be  the 
truth: 

"  He  is,  for  some  inscrutable  reason,  afraid  of  caring 
too  much,  or  perhaps-— -perhaps  he  might  have  thought 
thajt  I  would  come  to  care  too  much." 

Sometimes  when  this  suggestion  would  present  it 
self  she  would  almost  fear  that  in  the  morning  it 
would  be  known — that  all  would  have  the  second  sight 
to  see  this  terrible  thought  that  had  been  in  her 
mind  ;  but  the  night  and  the  swaying  punkah  and  the 
sleepy  punkah  cooly  told  no  tales,  and  the  days  went 
on  and  her  strength  did  not  seem  quite  up  to  the 
usual  demands.  Sleepless  nights  do  not  qualify  one 
for  days  of  furnace  heat,  and  she  went  wearily  in  and 
out  of  the  houses,  haunted  by  a  fear  that  some  day 
she  would  reach  the  limit  and  would  have  no  strength 
to  get  in  and  out  of  the  gari,  no  will  strong  enough 
to  urge  her  lagging  steps  up  the  stairs  into  her  dreary, 
unsympathetic  room  ;  and  then  what  would  happen  ? 
Perhaps  some  of  those  merciful  diseases  with  sudden 
terminations,  which  always  stand  waiting  around  the 
corner  out  of  sight,  would  end  it  all  quickly,  and  an- 


260  THE  ISisnop's  CONVERSION. 

other  lady  would  come  out  from  the  home  land  full  of 
enthusiasm  and  strength.  Perhaps  she  might  do  the 
work  better,  and  perhaps  Carnton  might  be  pleased 
with  her  also,  until  he  came  to  know  how  much  she 
cared  for  friendship,  and  then  she,  too,  might  find  his 
eyes  unkind.  But  she  hoped  that  she,  this  imaginary 
new  zenana  teacher,  might  not  be  young — "  not 
young,  for  life  looks  too  long  in  its  dreary  perspective 
without  any  friends  for  whom  one  really  cares." 

But  not  often  did  she  allow  herself  the  luxury  of 
such  fancies.  She  was  there  for  work,  and  work  she 
loved  more  than  she  loved  herself  or  her  own  happi 
ness  ;  work,  whose  interest  increased  in  proportion 
almost  as  its  difficulties  increased,  and  just  now,  in 
some  respects,  these  seemed  to  be  multiplying. 

There  was  one  house  especially  the  inmates  of 
which  gave  her  much  thought.  From  the  first  day 
she  had  been  called  to  visit  it,  which  had  been  re 
cently,  there  seemed  not  only  to  herself,  but  to  her 
assistants,  an  air  of  mystery  about  it  that  they  did  not 
like.  One  accustomed  to  constant  dealing  with  Orien 
tals  comes  to  trust  to  impressions  or  instincts  or  what 
ever  may  be  called  that  peculiar  sense  that  detects  the 
untrue,  the  unworthy,  and  the  mysterious.  This  is  a 
grateful  sense  and  develops  in  proportion  as  it  is 
trusted,  even  though  it  be  trusted  simply  because 
there  is  nothing  else  to  guide  one.  There  are  so 
many  unexplored  parts  to  an  ordinary  native's  mind, 
so  many  secret  drawers,  so  many  false  bottoms,  that 
a  European  of  a  confiding  nature  and  given  to  trust 
ing  surface  appearances  is  apt  to  be  led  in  dubious 
ways,  and  to  often  find  himself  in  pits  of  the  exist 
ence  of  which  only  experience  could  convince  him. 


IN  THE  ZEXAXAS.  261 

In  this  house,  concerning  which  Sidney  was  feeling 
a  little  uncertain  and  uncomfortable,  were  a  woman 
called  Moonia  and  her  daughter  Juniia,  a  girl  quite 
beyond  the  age  when  girls  are  usually  married.  This 
circumstance  the  mother  was  careful  to  explain,  sav 
ing  that  she  was  a  widow  and  too  poor  to  provide 
the  marriage  portion  of  her  daughter  ;  and  yet  some 
way.  though  they  dressed  plainly,  they  did  not  give, 
exactly,  the  impression  of  being  poor.  But  the 
mother  explained  fully  that  they  had  lived  in  a  little 
village  where  all  the  men  cared  more  for  money  than 
beauty,  and  she  had  come  to  Lucknow  in  the  hope  of 
finding  some  one  that  would  be  satisfied  with  her 
child's  beauty,  and  that  alone. 

"Now,"  she  said,  with  much  satisfaction,  on  the 
day  of  Sidney's  first  visit,  "  my  efforts  have  been  re 
warded  and  a  husband  has  been  found  both  rich  and 
intelligent  who  wishes  his  wife  to  be  taught  that  she 
may  also  understand  and  be  wise." 

This  sounded  plausible;  but  there  was  something 
in  the  girl's  pretty  face  that  contradicted  a  part  or  the 
whole  of  the  statement  and  warned  Sidney  to  be  cau 
tious. 

Then  there  was  the  lack  of  the  usual  shyness  that 
was  invariable  with  girls  on  meeting  a  woman  with  a 
white  face  for  the  first  time ;  a  lack  of  the  usual  curi 
osity  in  regard  to  her  dress  and  habits  that  was  puz 
zling;  and  equally  puzzling  was  the  fact  of  her  being 
well  taught  for  a  village  girl,  though  her  mother  said 
briefly  that  Jumia  had  taught  herself,  which  was  so 
palpable  an  untruth  that  Sidney  did  not  credit  it  a 
moment;  but  the  girl  was  so  gentle  and  loving,  so 
eager  to  learn,  and  so  earnest  in  begging  Sidney 


262  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

never  to  miss  a  day  but  always  to  come,  that  she  went 
as  often  as  possible. 

One  day  when  the  mother,  who  had  never  before 
left  them  for  a  moment,  went  out  into  the  courtyard 
Jumia  said,  quickly  : 

"Miss  Sahib,  I  want  to  come  and  live  with  you.  I 
suffer  much.  May  I  come  ?  " 

Sidney  was  startled  for  a  moment,  but  the  mother 
returning  immediately  prevented  her  giving  any  an 
swer,  and  afterward,  on  thinking  it  over,  she  concluded 
it  was  a  mere  impulse.  During  the  next  visit  they 
were  again  alone  for  a  few  moments,  and  Jumia  said, 
hurriedly  and  with  great  emotion  : 

"  My  dear  Miss  Sahib,  I  am  a  lie.  My  name  is 
Sitara,  and  I  was  the  wife  of  Shew  Pershad,  who  died. 
Your  Carnton  Sahib  knows  me,  and  also  Miss  W hit- 
low  Sahib,  with  whom  I  was  in  the  Bewa  Khana." 

"  How  can  this  be  ? "  said  Sidney,  her  head  in  a 
whirl. 

She  knew  the  story  of  Sitara,  of  the  bright  promise 
of  Shew  Pershad's  life,  and  of  his  wife's  disappearance 
after  his  death.  Carnton  himself  had  told  her  of  the 
legacy  of  trust  Shew  Pershad  had  left  him  in  regard 
to  Sitara. 

Watching  Sidney's  face  as  she  saw  her  gradually 
comprehending  the  situation,  she  said,  after  waiting  a 
moment, 

"  Xow  may  I  come  to  you  ? " 

"Why  not  iro  to  Miss  Whitlow  ?     She  searched  for 

•/ 

you  and  longed  to  find  you." 

"  Mother  would  find  me  there,  because  she  knows  I 
wanted  to  go  back,  and  Miss  Whitlow  would  have  ti> 
give  me  up.  They  will  not  think  I  am  with  you,  and 


Ix  THE  ZKXAXAS.  203 

in  that  great  old  house  in  which  you  live  there  must 
he  a  corner  for  me.  Miss  Whitlow  and  Carnton  Sa 
hib  must  not  oven  know  that  I  a'n  here — that  Sitara  is 
in  Luckiiuw  ;  for  it  is  their  way  always  to  speak  the 
truth,  and  my  mother  would  ask  them.  Only  close  in 
your  heart  can  the  knowledge  he  of  me,  for  even 
walls  have  ears  and  eyes,  and  can  speak  of  things  that 
are.  You  will  let  me  come,  because  Shew  Pershad 
said  I  must  be  a  Christian  ? " 

Still  Sidney  was  silent,  for  it  was  all  too  sudden  and 
too  confusing.  There  was  too  much  involved  to  bo 
able  to  answer  quickly  or  even  at  all. 

Then  the  girl,  still  with  her  eyes  half  on  the  door, 
where  she  expected  every  moment  to  see  her  mother, 
pleaded": 

"You  alone  can  help  me.  You  -must  help  me. 
There-  is  no  one  else.  You  are  happy  and  free,  and 
your  God  cares  for  you  and  does  not  let  dark 
clouds  of  sorrow  wrap  you  about.  But  see,  I  will 
come  to  you  and  live  Avith  yon,  and  your  God,  who 
does  not  despise  women,  will  also  care  for  me." 

This  last  was  said  as  though  reading  it  from  the 
Bible,  as  the  mother  was  just  coming  in;  and  then 
Sitara  really  began  reading. 

"My  dear  child  is  learning  rapidly,"  said  the 
mother,  with  a  smile  that  showed  her  teeth  blackened 
and  her  lips  red  with  the  pan  she  was  chewing,  and 
she  arranged  her  chuddar  with  a  satisfied  air.  "  She, 

O 

is  soon  to  make  a  great  marriage.  We  arc  poor, 
very  poor,  but  Kam  is  good  and  has  given  her  a 
very  handsome  young  and  rich  husband.  She  will 
have  silks  and  velvets  and  jewels  until  her  heart  is 
full,  and  then  every  day  curry  und  rice,  with  the  best 


264  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

of  spices.  Ah  !  "  and  she  gave  a  sigli  which  was  partly 
a  groan  of  satisfaction. 

"  Does  she — does  she  like  this  man  ? "  asked  Sidney. 

She  was  going  to  say,  "  Does  she  love  this  man  ?  " 
but  knowing  this  would  shock  her  prejudices  she 
changed  the  word. 

"Not  now,  but  why  will  she  not?  It  is  not  the 
custom  to  like  much  before  marriage.  It  would  not 
do,  but  she  will  be  very  fond  when  she  has  all  these 
clothes  and  jewels." 

"  It  is  as  useless,"  thought  Sidney.  "  to  tell  her  that 
clothes  and  jewels  cannot  bring  happiness  as  it  was  to 
tell  my  own  aunt  at  home,  who  wished  me  to  marry  a 
rich  man.  There  is  a  similarity.  Girls,  whether  in 
the  Occident  or  Orient,  are  expected  to  fill  their 
hearts  with  jewels  and  clothes." 

"  But,  Moonia,"  she  said,  "  you  know  that  if  he  is 
not  good  her  heart  will  be  heavy  even  though  she  has 
a  world  full  of  silks  and  jewels." 

"Tut,"  she  said,  looking  with  a  warning  glance 
toward  the  girl,  "  he  is  good,  of  course  he  is  good. 
Why  else  should  he  give  her  all  these  things  ?  Come, 
Jumia,  you  have  a  new  chuddar  to  sew.  Show  the 
Miss  Sahib  how  nicely  you  are  sawing  it." 

The  next  day  Sidney  went  for  the  lesson  with  anx 
ious  heart,  but  everything  was  as  usual ;  the  reading 
in  Hindi  and  Urdu,  and  then  the  Bible  lesson 
which  Sitara  always  enjoyed,  and  through  which  her 
mother  sat  scowling  and  silent.  She  was,  however, 
willing  to  permit  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  other  teaching, 
and  trusted  to  the  effect  of  her  always  telling  Sitara, 
after  Sidney  had  gone,  that  it  was  all  a  lie.  a  fable 

«.'  O 

like  the  stories  she  had  told  her  of  talking  tigers  in 


IN  THE  ZEXAXAS. 

the  jungles  and  of  birds  who  cooked  and-  ate  men's 
food. 

When  Sidney  was  leaving,  Sitara  brought  the  usual 
offering  of  cardamom  seeds  and  pan,  and  as  she  handed 
Sidney  the  pan  her  back  M*as  toward  her  mother  and 
her  lips  framed  the  word  "inside." 

With  a  nervous  hand,  when  once  in  her  gari,  Sid 
ney  opened  the  glossy  green  pan  leaf,  and  instead  of  the 
usutil  paste  of  betel  nut,  cardamom  seeds,  and  lime,  she 
found  a  scrap  of  paper  on  which  were  the  words  in 
Hindi,  "  I  will  come  to  you  when  the  darkness 
comes." 

Sidney  was  much  agitated,  for  she  knew  this  taking- 
refuge  with  her  might  involve  much  trouble,  though 
how  much  she  did  not  and  could  not  guess.  She 
wished  for  advice,  and  she  thought  at  once  of  Carn- 
ton.  She  had  not  seen  him  for  many  days,  but  she 
knew  that  he  had  often  been  sad  that  he  had  not  been 
able  to  fulfill  Shew  Pershad's  trust  in  him.  Now  he 
would  be  glad  and,  perhaps,  be  grateful  to  her  for 
being  able  to  do  what  he  could  not,  and  perhaps  he 
would  once  more  give  her  his  kindly  approval,  and 
she  was  ready  for  a  moment  to  do  what  would  please 
him,  but  only  for  a  moment.  In  an  instant  she  put 
the  thought  aside,  and  also  all  thought  of  Carnton, 
that  she  might  not  have  her  idea  of  duty  warped. 

But  after  all  this  was"  not  necessary.  It  was  really 
taken  out  of  her  hands.  Sitara  had  purposely  ar 
ranged  giving  her  the  message  so  that  she  could  not 
refuse.  -Thinking  it  over  again  she  saw  this,  and  she 
could  only  wait,  not  being  able  even  to  say  she  would 
or  would  not  receive  her.  She  could  only  say  : 

"  It  is  in.  God's  hands  now,  and  if  she  is  true  and 
19 


206  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION'. 

earnest  he  will  care  fur  her,  as  lie  has  ever  cared  for 
his  own." 

When  again  the  wind  had  gone  down,  when  not  a 
leaf  moved  and  the  twilight,  heavy  with  the  scent  of 
jasmine  and  babul,  was  over  all,  every  person  about 
the  house  seemed  to  have  departed  on  one  pretext  or 
another,  even  the  assistants  having  gone  to  evening 
service,  and  Sidney  sat  alone  on  the  first  of  the  steps 
that  led  to  the  front  veranda. 

She  was  anxious,  and  yet  peace  was  in  her  heart. 
Watching  the  gateway  she  saw  nothing,  but  suddenly 
there  was  a  shaking  of  the  pomegranate  tree  that 
reached  down  to  where  she  sat,  a  tinkle  of  anklets  and 
toe  rings,  a  swish  of  silken  garments,  and  Sitara  was 
panting  like  a  hunted  deer  in  her  arms. 

She  drew  her  quickly  inside,  then  up  the  winding 
stairway  and  into  an  empty  unused  little  back  room 
which  opened  off  of  her  rooms  by  a  rude  little  door 
hung  with  a  portiere.  She  had  not  thought  where 
she  would  put  Sitara  or  what  she  could  do  with  her, 
for  it  seemed  too  much  like  planning  to  take  the 
child  from  her  mother;  but  now  that  she  had  come  of 
her  own  accord  she  would  do  the  best  she  could  for  her. 
She  brought  what  was  needful  into  the  room  and 
then,  having  dropped  the  curtain  and  closed  the  little 
door,  sat  down  on  a  low  chair  that  she  had  brought 
for  herself,  and  said  : 

"  You  said  once  you  were  in  great  danger ;  tell 
me  all.  Be  very  careful  that  you  speak  truly :  that 
all  you  say  is  straight  and  right.'' 

Sitara  knelt  by  her  side  and  laid  her  head  on  Sid 
ney's  shoulder,  who,  with  one  arm  around  her,  listened. 

"  It  is  as  I  said  on  the  day  when  my  heart  first  stood 


Ix  TIIK  ZENANAS.  267 

tip  to  speak  to  my  dear  Miss  Sahib.  My  mother  and 
father  gave  me  to  Shew  Pershad  when  I  was  six  years 
old,  and  I  went  to  live  with  his  mother.  lie  was  a 
brother  to  me  and  I  was  his  sister,  for  his  mother  was 
of  a  very  bad  disposition  and  was  very  unkind.  Then 
Shew  Pershad  became  a  Christian  after  he  had  been 
to  the  mission  school,  and  he  brought  me  away  that  I 
might  learn  to  be  a  Christian  also,  and  we  were  to 
have  a  house  when  he  had  finished  school  and  we 
were  to  be  married  in  the  church  by  the  Padri  Sahib 
as  Christians.  It  was  then  I  was  with  Miss  Whitlow 
when  he  became  sick,  and  he  sent  for  me  and  told  me 
I  must  stay  with  Miss  Whitlow  and  be  a  Christian 
and  learn  to  teach  others  to  be  so  too.  After  he  died 
his  mother  arranged  with  my  mother  and  she  took 
me  away,  pretending  that  she  was  going  to  take  me  to 
Miss  Whitlow's  Bewa  Khana,  but  it  was  only  here  in 
another  part  of  Lucknow  that  we  came.  Then  she 
found  this  man,  who  is  old  and  hideous,  who  will  kill 
me  if  he  finds  ont  that  he  has  been  trapped  into  mar 
rying  a  widow.  When  she  told  me  that  she  had  ar 
ranged  for  me  to  marry  him  I  was  very  angry,  but 
she  said  I  must  not  tell  him  I  was  a  widow,  but  marry 
him  quietly,  or  she  would  do  worse." 

"What  could  be  worse?" 

Sitara  hesitated,  her  head  went  down,  and  she  whis 
pered  : 

"  She  said  she  must  have  more  money,  for  she  loves 
money  more  than  anything  else,  and  she  would  sell  me 
iu  the  bazar  to  any  one." 

Sidney  was  appalled  to  think  of  this  poor  lamb  left 
among  wolves,  and  remorseful  that  she  had  thought 
for  a  moment  of  refusing  to  shelter  her. 


268  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"I  never  meant  to  pretend  to  marry  him,  and  lie 
thought  me  stupid.  So  lie  said  I  must  be  taught,  and 
you  were  culled,  and  O,  Miss  Sahib,  how  glad  I  was ! 
I  had  said  I  would  kill  myself,  and  I  did  not  eat  and  I 
was  as  thin  as  paper;  and  there  is  a  deep  well  back  of 
the  house  that  would  have  received  me  kindly  had 
you  not  come.  But  my  poor  heart  lifted  itself  up 
when  you  came,  for  I  knew  you  were  good  because 
you  are  to  marry  Shew  Pershad's  Carnton  Sahib." 

"  What !  "  was  the  startled  exclamation. 

"  I  knew  Carnton  Sahib,  whom  Shew  Pershad  said 
was  so  good,  would  not  take  you  for  his  wife  un 
less—" 

"  But  who  said—" 

"  The  cousin  of  Shew  Pershad,  who  is  in  the  school, 
said  it.  O,  it  is  well  known,  and  he  is  a  fine,  hand 
some  man,  and  of  pleasant  disposition,"  looking  a  lit 
tle  curiously  at  Sidney's  agitated  face. 

After  a  pause  Sitara  went  on  : 

"  I  knew  you  would  let  me  come  to  you,  and  it  would 
have  been  death  to  stay  there.  I  think  Mohun  Lai 
suspects  I  have  been  married,  for  he  came  twice  when 
he  knew  my  mother  was  not  in  the  house,  and  he  was 
very  unkind  to  me,  and  he  has  put  off  the  marriage, 
though  my  mother  was  not  pleased  to  do  so,  and  they 
are  talking  of  something  else,  of  which  they  do  not  let 
me  hear  the  words." 

Sidney  was  weighing  all  this  in  her  mind.  The 
only  thing  that  did  not  seem  true  was  that  they  were 
poor.  She  finally  asked  : 

"  But  if  you  are  so  poor  how  do  you  have  all  these 
jewels  and  this  pretty  silken  dress?"'  for  she  was 
dressed  as  a  rich  woman  dresses. 


Ix  THE  ZENANAS.  269 

Sitara  laughed  the  gleeful  laugh  of  the  child  she 
was. 

"  I  have  not  said  we  were  poor.  My  mother  says 
it.  She  says  that  to  make  people  believe  her  when  she 
tells  them  I  am  not  married ;  otherwise  people  would 
have  suspected  at  once  that  I  am  a  widow.  I  did  not 
mean  to  let  her  have  these  things.  They  are  mine, 
and  I  love  them.  We  are  not  at  all  poor.  See!" 
And  she  lifted  one  skirt  and  showed  another  of  gold- 
colored  satin  underneath.  Under  this  was  a  purple 
velvet,  and  under  this  a  silvery  gauze  heavily  embroid 
ered  with  gold. 

"  And  in  each  pocket  of  each  are  my  jewels,"  she 
added,  gayly  ;  and  she  drew  out  of  one  a  huge  nose 
ring,  set  with  many  large  pearls,  a  necklace  of  gold  set 
with  turquoises  and  pearls,  and  toe  rings  and  finger 
rings.  "And  they  are  all  full,"  she  said,  patting  the 
other  skirts,  which  dragged  in  two  or  three  places. 

"  And  see!  "  and  she  lifted  her  skirt  and  showed  the 
heavy  anklets  of  gold  on  the  little  ankles,  and  the 
armlets  of  gold  and  pearls  and  turquoises  and  the 
bangles  of  silver  and  gold. 

"  O,  my  Sitara,  what  have  you  done!  What  have 
you  done !  "  and  Sidney  wrung  her  hands.  "  Why 
did  you  bring  them  ?" 

The  large  soft  eyes  opened  wider  than  ever  in  as 
tonishment. 

"Why  not?  They  are  mine.  Father  bought  them 
for  my  wedding.  I  was  the  only  daughter,  and  he  had 
money.  ShewPershad's  mother  never  knew  how  many 
I  had.  They  are  mine,"  she  said,  a  little  fiercely,  '*  and 
I  love  them,"  touching  them  with  a  loving  pat. 

Sidney  walked  the  floor.    What  should  she  do  ?    She 


270  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

saw  it  all  at  once.  The  story  would  go  that  the  child 
had  been  kidnapped  for  her  jewels.  She  would  be 
advertised  in  the  zenanas  as  the  kidnapping  zenana 
teacher,  and  not  only  she,  but  other  zenana  teachers 
would  be  maligned  with  a  show  of  truth.  She  knew 
that  already  many  such  stories  were  told  to  the  women 
in  zenanas,  but  against  constant  love  and  kindness 
these  stories  had  had  little  weight.  Xow  they  would 
be  believed.  Should  she  send  her  back  and  sacrifice 
one  for  the  many?  No,  no.  She  would  do  what 
seemed  right;  for  if  she  sent  her  back  it  would  be 
only  to  a  life  of  infamy,  for  even  if  there  was  a 
marriage  it  could  not  be  aught  but  a  pretense. 

"  Sitara,  listen  tome.  Do  you  know  that  by  bring 
ing  your  fine  clothes  and  jewels  you  have  endangered 
what  is  worth  more  than  life  to  me  ? " 

The  startled  fawn-like  look  came  ao-ain  to  her  face, 

O  / 

and  she  said,  solemnly  : 

"  My  Miss  Sahib,  I  would  go  away  into  the  hell  of 
life  with  that  man  before  I  would  cause  the  wind  to 
lift  your  hair.  "What  have  I  done  ? " 

"  They  will  call  me  a  thief,  and  say  I  have  stolen 
you  for  your  jewels." 

Sitara  knew  enough  of  native  ways  of  doing  to  need 
no  proof  of  this. 

"True,  O  true!"  and  she  rocked  herself  back  and 
forth.  "I  did  not  think,  I  did  not  know." 

She  rose  sorrowfully  and  came  and  put  her  arms 
around  Sidney,  laying  her  head  first  on  one  shoulder, 
then  on  the  other. 

"  Salaam,"  she  said  ;  "I  must  go  quickly,  and  they 
will  not  know  what  I  meant  to  do.  They  will  kill 
me  if  they  find  it  out ;"  and  she  was  gliding  out  of 


IN  THE  ZENANAS.  271 

the  door  before  Sidney  understood  and  caught  her  bv 

!/  O  I/ 

the  arm. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?     Are  you  going  back  ? " 

"  Yes,  O,  yes!  It  is  better  for  me  to  go  back  than 
bring  trouble  on  your  head." 

"Wait,  Sitara,  wait,"  she  cried.  "I  must  think.  I 
cannot  keep  you  with  these  jewels  and  clothes. 
Would  you  rather  give  them  up  and  stay,  or  keep 
them  and  go  back  ? " 

"I  will  give  them  up,  I  will  give  them  up  ;  for  if 
I  go  back  there  is  only  the  old  well  back  of  the  court 
yard  for  me,  and" — shuddering — "it  is  very  deep 
and  dark." 

Sidney  shuddered  too,  but  she  now  knew  Sitara  was 
in  earnest  and  understood  what  she  was  doing. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  she  answered,  "  you  shall  stay ; 
but  let  us  gather  these  things  up  quickly;  we  have 
no  time  to  lose ;  put  the  jewels  all  together  in  this 
while  I  am  gone." 

She  went,  out,  bolting  the  door  at  top  and  bottom, 
and  hurried  down  stairs,  stopping  neither  right  nor  left, 
though  Mary  Harris  had  come  back  from  evening 
service  and  was  waiting  to  speak  to  her.  Out  into  one 
of  the  arms  of  the  old  palace  she  went  to  a  native 
Christian  woman. 

"Matarn  Gini,"  she  said,  "  I  want  a  clean  siah  and 
chuddar  at  once,  and  mind,  you  are  to  tell  no  one  I 
asked  for  them." 

Matam  Gini  gave  them  quickly,  showing  no  signs 
of  astonishment,  and  soon  Sidney  was  back  in  the  lit 
tle  room  and  Sitara  had  them  on,  and  her  own  clothes 
and  jewels  were  tied  in  one  compact  bundle. 

"  Now  I  will  get  them  out  of  the  hou>e  as  quickly 


272  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

as  possible,"  saM  Sidney,  and  went  out  to  where  the 
assistants  were  sitting  in  the  dark,  and  asked  Mary 
Harris,  the  oldest  and  most  experienced  of  the  girls,  to 
come  to  her  room. 

"Now,"  she  said,  "I  have  something  very  difficult 
and  dangerous  for  some  one  to  do,  but  if  it  is  done 
well  it  will  be  of  great  help  to  us  and  save  us  much 
trouble.  This  bundle  must  be  put  in  Moonia's  house 
at  once.  It  will  not  do  for  you  or  any  of  the  servants 
or  anyone  connected  with  the  mission  to  take  it,  or 
even  any  native  Christian,  but  you  may  know  some 
one  who  is  quite  unconnected  with  us,  and  who  is  ac 
customed  to  going  about  in  the  native  city,  who  can 
find  the  house  without  asking  any  questions,  and,  re 
member,  the  utmost  haste  is  necessary.  The  girl  you 
saw  there,  called  Jumia,  has  come  away  from  her 
friends  and  says  she  is  determined  to  stay  with  us  and 
be  a  Christian.  But  she  has  brought  her  jewels  and 
rich  clothes.  You  see  they  must  be  returned  at  once 
without  anyone's  knowledge.  How  can  it  be  done  ? " 

Mary  Harris  looked  startled,  for  she  saw  even  more 
clearly  than  Sidney  did  the  full  danger  of  this,  but 
she  said  quietly : 

"  I  can  manage  it,  I  think,"  and  then  added,  '•  I 
will  take  Hannah  Leach  with  me  if  you  do  not 
mind,  and  go  home  and  arrange  it  from  there." 

"Certainly,  but  say  nothing  to  anybody.  I  can 
trust  you.  I  am  so  thankful  that  I  can  trust  your 
wisdom  and  discretion  ;"  and  she  kissed  her.  She  could 
feel  Sidney  trembling  as  she  returned  the  kiss,  and  she 
knew  she  alone  must  take  the  jewels  home  if  harm 
was  not  to  come  out  of  it.  Taking  the  bundle  under 
a  white  shawl  which  she  usual  1}'  wore  on  evenings; 


Ix  TIIK  ZKXAXAS.  273 

less  Lot  tlian  this,  she  started  out  with  Hannah,  ami 
they  were  soon  at  their  own  Lome.  After  greeting 
her  motlier  she  went  straight  to  her  o\vn  room  and 
opened  a  box  and  took  out  a  dark  cotton  sari  that  had 
been  given  her  by  one  of  the  rich  high  caste  women 
she  had  visited.  Folding  it  around  her  she  brought 
it  up  over  her  head  and  looked -in  the  glass.  She 
was  dark  and  regular-featured,  and  no  one  would 
suspect  in  any  light  that  she  was  not  a  native  in  that 
dress.  A  pair  of  dark  eyes  and 'a  sari  will  transform 
anyone  into  a  high  caste  native  lady.  She  went  out 
the  opposite  side  from  the  servants'1  houses  and  slipped 
through  a  hole  in  the  wall,  and  then,  with  a  swift  rush 
through  a  dark  narrow  lane,  she  was  in  a  native  quarter; 
then  another  narrow  lane,  and  she  struck  a  broad 
street.  This  she  had  to  cross.  She  did  it  fearfully,  but 
sa\v  no  one,  and  passed  on  down  another  dark  narrow 
lane  and  turned  a  corner,  and  was  in  still  another. 
All  along  were  natives  half  asleep  on  their  char- 
pais,  with  their  sheets  drawn  quite  over  their  heads. 
She  had  slipped  on  some  old  soft  shoes  that  made  little 
sound,  and  she  glided  along  like  a  dark  shadow.  Some 
times  a  man  turned  on  his  bed,  but  she  was  out  of 
sight  before  his  sheet  was  pulled  off,  and  on  she  went, 
her  heart  making  to  her  startled  ears  more  noise  than 
her  feet.  And  then  she  was  at  the  house.  Turning 

o 

to  the  right  she  thought  the  lane  would  bring  her  to 

O  O  O 

the  side  of  the  courtyard,  where  a  wide-spreading  pipul 
tree  near  the  gate  she  had  always  entered  would 
shade  her,  and  between  which  and  the  wall  she  hoped 
to  drop  her  burden  quietly  and  unnoticed,  But  going 
on  she  was  appalled  to  find  she  ha;l  miscalculated  and 
was  on  the  opposite  side.  Her  heart  stood  still  as  she 


274  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

peered  over  the  wall  and  saw  people  moving  about 
hurriedly  with  chirags  in  their  hands,  and  by  their  light 
exploring  the  corners  of  the  courtyard,  and  then  Si- 
tara's  mother  and  the  servant  passed  out  at  the  gate. 
Now  she  saw  that  she  would  surely  have  been  dis 
covered  had  she  come  out  as  she  had  intended. 

When  their  footfalls  quite  died  away  she  hurried 
around  to  the  back  of  the  house,  raised  herself  on  the 
wall,  dropped  the  precious  parcel  close  between  the 
wall  and  tree,  and  then  softly  fled  away,  back  through 
the  dark  lanes  into  her  own  room,  unmissed  and  un 
discovered.  Here  she  sank  on  the  floor,  pulled  off  her 
sari,  gasping  with  fright  and  loss  of  breath,  and  here 
her  sister,  wondering  at  her  long  absence,  found  her. 
As  soon  as  possible  she  forced  herself  to  go  back,  talk 
a  little  with  her  mother,  and  then  on  back  to  the  old 
palace  to  relieve  Sidney  of  her  apprehensions. 


SlTAKA.  275 


CHAPTER   XV. 

SITARA. 

A  FTER  Mary  Harris  had  gone  with  the  parcel  Sid- 
j\_  ney  took  a  chair  and  a  palm-leaf  fan  and  went 
out  on  the  terrace  where  Lily  Jalians,  the  other  ze 
nana  teacher,  was  sitting  in  the  murky  darkness.  They 
sat  in  silence,  trying  in  vain  to  get  cool  and  to  rest; 
but  every  moment  the  air  seemed  closer  and  heavier. 
Finally  Sidney  said: 

"Come,  let  us  go  up  on  the  roof;  it  may  not  be 
quite  so  hot,  and  it  is  possible  that  there  the  air  may 
be  moving  a  little.  We  surely  cannot  sleep  to-night 
unless  we  can  get  cooler;  and  no  sleep  means  work 
so  poorly  done  that  it  would  better  be  left  undone." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Mellen,"  which  was  the  only  answer 
this  girl  ever  gave  to  any  suggestion  or  request. 
Had  Sidney  told  her  to  go  up  and  throw  herself  off 
the  roof  she  would  have  answered,  "  Yes,  Miss  Mel 
len,"  in  the  same  soft,  low  tone,  and,  what  is  more,  she 
would  have  done  it.  At  least  Sidney  used  sometimes 
to  say  this  to  herself  a  little  impatiently.  They  went 
across  the  terrace,  up  a  narrow,  dark  stairway,  through 
a  room  open  to  the  air  on  all  sides,  across  another 
open  terrace,  then  through  a  little  door  that  led  up 
another  narrow  little  stairway  which  brought  them  out 
upon  the  flat  roof  of  the  palace.  Sidney  drew  a  long 
breath  as  she  took  one  of  the  chairs  always  there. 


276  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  This  is  better,"  she  said ;  "  I  always  feel  better 
here — nearer  God  ;  the  great  vile  city  is  so  far  be 
low  and  the  stars  seem  so  kindly ;  one  can  forget 
many  troubles  and  disappointments  up^here." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Mellen." 

They  stood  a  moment  looking  away  across  the  round 
dark  clumps  of  foliage,  with  the  spire  of  the  church 
breaking  their  monotony  in  the  foreground,  to  the 
sky  in  the  west,  where  was  still  a  pale  clear  light 
against  which  the  domes  of  the  old  tombs  showed  in 
grim  dark  masses.  All  was  perfectly  still ;  not  a 
breath  of  air,  not  a  leaf,  not  a  twig  moved ;  the  darkness, 
so  heavy  and  suffocating,  seeming  to  transfix  the  trees 
beyond  the  power  of  anything  but  the  mighty  mon 
soons  to  stir  them  ;  but  the  time  for  these  beneficent 
wet  winds  was  not  near,  and  people  were  hardly  yet 
allowing  themselves  to  long  for  them. 

Then  came  a  woman,  saying  : 

"  The  Bara  Sahib's  gari  has  corne  and  the  Bari  Mem 
asks  if  you  will  see  her  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  Give  her  my  best  salaams  and  ask 
her,  if  not  too  weary,  to  come  here  where  it  is  less  hot." 

A  few  minutes  later  Mrs.  Clinton  came  toiling  np 
and  sank  exhausted  into  a  chair.  While  fanning  her 
and  waiting  for  her  to  recover  her  breath  Sidney  saw 
with  throbbing  heart  a  tall  form,  too  slight  for  the 
Bishop,  emerge  from  the  door  and  come  toward  them 
through  the  darkness.  Carnton,  for  it  was  really  he, 
took  her  hand  as  he  asked  tho  u  mal  question : 

"  How  are  you  standing  this  terrible  heat  ? " 
.   "Fairly  well,  I  think,  but  there  are  so  many  other 
things  to  think  of  I  can  hardly  tell  ;  I  have  not  time 
to  stop  and  inquire  of  myself  how  I  feel." 


SlTARA.  277 

"  "Well,  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  languidly, 
:~  I  saw  Sunday  evening  at  the  church  that  some  one 
must  take  you  in  hand  and  look  after  you,  or  soon 
there  would  be  only  a  shadow  left.  Don't  you  know 
how  thin  you  are  growing?" 

"Am  I?  "  said  Sidney,  absently.  She  was  trying 
lo  conjecture  with  confused  head  why  he  had  come 
to  see  her  after  marked  avoidance  of  her  for  months  ; 
and,  more  than  this,  why  a  return  of  the  old,  protect 
ing,  sympathetic  manner — why? 

"Yes,"  said  Car n ton,  with  more  feeling  apparent 
in  his  voice  than  he  wanted,  "yes,  you  are  thin  and 
careworn,  and  " — in  a  lower  tone — "  it  cannot  fail  to 
make  your  friends  anxious.  AVhy  " — half  impatiently, 
as  she  made  no  answer — "  will  you  bear  everybody's 
burden  and  forget  that  your  iirst  duty  is  to  yourself?  " 

Still  Sidney  said  nothing.  It  was  sweet,  danger 
ously  sweet,  to  be  so  chided  by  him,  to  know  that  he 
thought  or  cared,  even  though  he  might  again  relapse 
into  coldness. 

"  If  people  really  wish  to  commit  suicide  why  do 
they  not  do  it  quickly,  and  not  give  their  friends 
months  of  lingering  anxiety  ? "  said  Mrs.  Clinton.  "  This 
sounds  shocking,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  some  of 
you  really  are  determined  to  kill  yourselves  with 
work." 

'•There  were  some  other  people,  not  long  ago,  who 
gave  their  friends  anxiety  in  that  same  line,"  said 
Carnton,  with  quiet  meaning,  ''and  now  they  not 
only  have  reformed,  but  are  trying  to  reform  others." 

"Yes,  I  acknowledge  it,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  with  a 
little  laugh  ;  "it  was  foolish,  and  I  want  other  people 
to  be  wiser." 


2TS  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION*. 

Sidney  was  wondering  if -it  would  not  be  possible 
to  get  his  opinion  on  the  especial  matter  she  had  in 
hand,  whether  he  would  think  she  had  done  wisely  or 
whether  he  would  say  she  might  have  done  differently. 
The  longing  for  his  sympathy  and  approval  was  so 
strong  that  she  felt  she  must  have  it.  Had  it 
been  possible  she  would  have  confided  the  whole  mat 
ter  to  him.  But  it  occurred  to  her,  happily,  that 
the  topic  assigned  for  the  next  missionary  conference 
had  a  bearing  on  this  very  point.  The  point  to  be 
considered  was  the  advisability  of  ordaining  women 
that  they  might  baptize  converts  in  the  zenanas,  but  it 
would  cover  much  ground  and  many  points  that  were 
always  arising  in  their  work,  and  on  which  different 
people  held  different  opinions,  and  would  be  thor 
oughly  discussed.  She  said,  abruptly  : 

"  The  missionary  conference  comes  on  next  week. 
Are  you  both  prepared  to  give  decided  opinions  on 
the  question  chosen  for  discussion?" 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"  The  ordination  of  women,"  answered  Camion, 
quickly,  "  and  I  for  one — " 

"  Yes,  we  know  you  '  for  one,'  or  two  or  three,  if 
possible,  object,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton.  "  We  know  you 
object  for  two  reasons,  but  the  principal  one  is  that 
you  dislike  the  idea  of  women  usurping  authority. 
You  would  like  all  women  to  be  household  goddesses 
and  find  their  sphere  of  action  in  the  home  circle.  I 
agree  with  you  in  theory,  but  it  makes  me  a  radical 
advocate  of  woman's  rights  to  hear  a  man  state  my 
belief  for  me,  to  lay  down  the  law  for  us ;  so  I  always 
try  to  anticipate  him  if  possible,  for  I  really  do  not 
want  to  be  forced  to  believe  women  should  vote." 


SlTAKA.  279 

They  laughed  a  little, 'and  Carnton  said  : 

"That  is  rather  too  complex  for  a  dull  brain  to 
comprehend,  but  yon  forgot  to  state  my  other  reasons. 
It  seems  a  sort  of  interference  in  family  life.  Gen 
erally  speaking,  it  must  be  best  for  the  women  to  wait 
until  they  can  be  baptized  openly;  there  can  be  few 
cases  where  it  would  be  well  to  do  anything  to  sep 
arate  them  from  their  families." 

"But,"  said  Sidney,  "if  a  woman  cannot  live  a 
Christian  life  in  her  own  home,  or  if  her  life  is  in 
danger,  and  she  of  her  own  accord  separates  herself 
from  her  family,  what  can  we  do  ?  Must  we  turn  her 
back  to  death,  or  a  life  of  moral  death  \  " 

"  Xever.  In  such  a  case  there  is  only  one  thing  to 
do,  and  that  is  to  give  help,  as  we  must  always  when 
a  human  being  comes  to  us  for  succor ;  I,  of  course, 
was  not  referring  to  a  case  of  that  kind.'' 

"  Even  though  it  bring  trouble  and  suspicion  on 
ourselves  should  we  shelter  her?" 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  If  it  is  the  right 
thing  to  do,  then  it  is  the  only  thing  we  can  do,  and 
the  consequences  are  with  God,  and  not  with  us." 

She  had  her  answer  now,  and  if  he  should  hear  of 
her  being  unsuccessful  in  her  work,  or  being  talked 
about  in  the  city,  he  would  remember  and  know  that 
what  she  did  was  not  rashly  done,  but  with  an  earnest 
wish  to  do  the  right. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  "  I  cannot  see  why  these 
poor  creatures  should  not  always  be  encouraged  to 

A  t/  O 

leave  their  wretched  homes,  where  they  are  looked 
upon  in  the  light  of  servants,  or  at  the  best  as  chil 
dren,  and  at  the  worst  beyond  all  imagination." 
"  There  are  many  sides  to  the  question,"  said  Cam- 


2SO  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

ton,  gravely  ;  4i  it  is  not  a  good  thing  to  interfere  ami 
break  up  families;  there  is  nothing  for  the  women  to 
do  and  nowhere  to  put  them,  and  it  must  in  many 
cases  be  a  better  tiling  for  them  to  learn  to  live  a 
noble,  unselfish  life  in  the  family,  even  though  it  be 
hard;  but  is  it  not  time  we  were  going?  And  will 
you  kindly  explain  our  errand  to  Miss  Mellen  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  we  must  go  some  time,"  rising ;  "  I 
have  got  in  the  way  of  feeling  as  though  I  can  never 
get  up  out  of  my  chair  when  I  have  once  sat  down ; 
but  what  was  I  going  to  say? — my  memory  seems  as 
lazy  as  the  rest  of  me.  O,  yes  ;  I  want  you  to  come 
with  us  for  a  long  drive  to-morrow  evening.  ~\Ve  are 
going  out  to  Bibiapur  to  see  if  we  cannot  find  some 
air  to  breathe  that  is  clean,  even  if  it  does  come  out 
of  a  baker's  oven.  1  am  going  to  take  some  sand 
wiches  with  me,  so  \ve  will  not  have  to  hurry  back, 
and  you  are  not  to  say  no." 

"Air  from  a  baker's  oven  "  was  the  only  expression 
Mrs.  Clinton  ever  seemed  to  think  conveyed  any  idea 
of  the  heat  they  were  undergoing. 

"I  will  not  say  no,  for  I  shall  like  it- very  much 
indeed,"  said  Sidney. 

"My  husband  has  a  meeting,"  Mrs.  Clinton  went 
on,  "for  English-speaking  natives,  but  Mr.  Carnton 
will  come  with  us.  In  fact,  it  was  he  who  proposed 
it,  and  I  am  only  going  along  for  propriety/' 

Sidney  had  hardly  said  she  would  like  to  go  when 
she  remembered  it  would  not  be  well  to  leave  the 
house,  unless  she  was  obliged  to  do  so,  while  nothing 
was  settled  about  Sitara.  To  go  away  three  or  four 
hours  would  be  unsafe  at  this  time,  and  she  hardly 
noticed  what  Mrs.  Clinton  was  saying,  except  that 


SlTARA.  281 

Carnton  was  also  going,  and  the  vision  of  this  long 
drive  with  them  and  the  quiet  hour  by  the  river  was 
tempting  and  made  her  for  a  moment  wish  it  could 
be  arranged,  and  that  she  might  leave  Mary  Harris  in 
charge  of  the  poor  child  down  stairs.  But  instantly 
she  knew  it  could  not  be,  and  she  said  in  a  voice  made 
cold — or  at  least  Carnton  thought  it  cold  and  stern,  by 
her  disappointment : 

"  After  all,  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  go,  much  as  I 
would  like  it." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  "you  must  go. 
You  must  get  a  little  rest  and  change,  otherwise  you 
will  have  to  give  up  altogether  and  go  off  to  the  moun 
tains." 

"  Xo,"-she  said,  decidedly ;  "  I  cannot,  and  that  ends 
the  matter.  The  demands  of  my  work  will  not  allow 
it."  ' 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  surprised  at  the  cold  and  abrupt 
way  she  spoke.  It  was  not  like  her,  and  she  could  not 
account  for  it,  unless  she  wished  Carnton  to  under 
stand  distinctly  it  was  because  he  had  planned  the 
drive  she  would  not  go,  and  that  she  wished  him  to 
understand  definitely  that  "  the  demands  of  her  work" 
were  more  to  her  than  his  wishes  or  even  his  love. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  to  cover  his  defeat, 
"then  we  must  ask  Helen  May.  She  needs  a  little 
rest,  and  Kate  Deane  also." 

Sidney  went  down  with  them,  and  Carnton's  cold 
"good  night"  told  her  that  he  would  return,  as  she 
feared,  to  his  old  unkind,  distant  manner,  and  she  won 
dered  impatiently  what  kind  of  person  he  could  be, 
so  full  of  moods ;  it  was  not  like  a  man,  and  of 
all  men  lea^t  like  him.  She  would  have  liked  to 
20 


282  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

give  them  a  hint  of  the  particular  demands  of  her 
work  which  would  not  allow  her  to  go,  but  there  was 
Lily  Jahans  sitting  quietly  in  the  dark,  and,  besides,  the 
air  of  India  is  full  of  invisible  telephone  wires  that 
carry  all  the  smallest  acts  of  the  white  people  to  the 
millions  of  ears  ever  open  to  hear  the  worst  of  the 
sahib  log. 

Sidney  stood  looking  regretfully  an  instant  after 
them  as  they  disappeared  in  the  star-twilight,  thinking 
what  it  might  have  been  to  her  hungry  heart  to  have 
thatlong  evening  near  him,  even  if  she  only  sat  silent 
and  listened  to  his  voice.  Then  she  turned  away 
quickly  and  went  down  to  Mary  Harris,  who  was  wait 
ing  for  her. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  Mary,  in  a  low  tone,  for  the 
bearer  was  fastening  the  lower  doors  near  them. 
"  But,  Miss  Mellen,  you  must  not  be  surprised  if  this 
leads  to  great  trouble.  I  know  these  people,  and  we 
must  be  prepared  for  anything." 

Sidney  was  startled  by  the  seriousness  of  her  tone. 
Her  inexperience  had  assured  her  there  could  be 
nothing  serious  to  fear  if  the  girl  had  no  valuables 
with  her. 

"  Why  should  they  make  trouble  ?  If  the  man 
comes  I  will  simply  tell  him  the  facts  of  the  case — 
that  .she  has  been  married  before,  and  rather  than  be 
a  party  to  deceiving  him  she  came  to  me  of  her 
own  accord ;  that  I  did  not  suggest  it  to  her ;  that  I 
did  not  even  know  she  was  coming  until  that  day  she 
came ;  that  I  did  not  wish  her  to  come,  though  I  am 
glad  now  that  she  is  away  from  them." 

"Dear  Miss  Mellen,  he  will  not  believe  you,  and  if 
he  did  he  will  pretend  he  does  not,  and  the  mother — 


SlTARA.  283 

do  you  think  she  will  easily  give  up  a  home  for  her 
self,  which  she  will  have  if  she  can  marry  Sitara  to 
this  man,  or  the  price  she  will  get  for  her  if  she  can 
not  marry  her  ? ' ' 

"  But  what  can  we  do??'  asked  Sidney.  "I  could 
not  tell  her  to  go  back  to  that  horrible  life.  When 
she  came  do  you  think  I  should  have  told  her  to  go 
back  ? " 

"No,  indeed,"  was  the  answer.  "It  was  right,  I 
am  sure,  to  give  her  shelter.  What  else  are  we  work 
ing  for  but  to  help  the  oppressed  and  distressed  ?" 

Mary  Harris  was  one  of  the  many  helpful  Eurasian 
girls  educated  in  mission  schools  who  have  given 
devoted,  earnest  service  to  the  mission  work,  and  in 
whose  judgment  all  have  confidence.  Sidney  bade 
he;1  good  night  and  went  away  to  her  room.  She  had 
been  longing  to  go  before,  but  had  waited,  as  she 
wanted  no  appearance  of  hurry  to  be  perceptible,  but 
to  have  everything  go  on  as  usual. 

Passing  through  her  own  room  quietly  she  lifted 
the  purdah  which  hung  over  the  little  door  and  went  in. 

Sitara,  sitting  on  the  floor  with  her  head  on  her 
arms  and  her  arms  on  a  chair,  was  sound  asleep,  like 
the  child  she  was;  her  chuddar  falling  back  re 
vealed  the  pretty  face  and  thick  shining  bkick  hair; 
one  little  foot  was  extended  from  beneath  her  skirt, 
and  on  one  ankle  was  a  large  round  spot  like  a  blister. 

Sidney  stood  looking  at  her  sweet,  innocent  face, 
and  she  said  to  herself,  "  Mary  Harris  and  Mr.  Cam- 
ton  are  right.  We  are  here  to  help  the  helpless,  and, 
no  matter  what  comes.  I  am  glad  I  can  help  her,  and  i 
will  now  rest  on  this  thought  and  nut  swerve,  no  mat 
ter  what  disaster  comes  to  me." 


284  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

As  she  moved  away  Sitara  started  up  in  fright,  star 
ing  at  Sidney  in  bewilderment  and  fear;  only  for  a 
moment,  however,  and  then  she  rose  and  threw  herself 
into  the  arms  of  her  friend. 

"  O,  Miss  Sahib,  I  had  forgotten  where  I  was  and 
what  had  happened,  and  I  had  great  fear."  Sidney 
could  feel  her  heart  beat,  and  she  was  trembling  in 
her  arms  like  a  frightened  bird. 

"Yon  need  not  fear;  yon  are  among  friends  who 
will  care  for  yon  and  not  allow  yon  to  suffer  harm.'' 

"I  know,  I  know.  Did  I  not  go  to  sleep  without 
fear — the  first  time  since  my  mother  took  me  to  Mo- 
hnn  Lai's  house?  Did  I  not  know  that  my  dear 
Miss  Sahib  would  make  all  things  right?  But  you 
will  not  let  them  take  me  back  ?  "  and  again  she  trem 
bled  and  fluttered  in  Sidney's  arms. 

"  No,  no  ;  but  " — trying  to  turn  her  attention  from 
herself — "what  is  that  sore  on  your  foot?  Did  you 
hurt  yourself?" 

"  No,  no ;  Mohun  Lai  made  it." 

"  Mohun  Lai  ?     How  ? "  asked  Sidney. 

"  With  an  iron." 

"With  an  iron!"  she  repeated,  in  horror;  "did  he 
strike  you  ? " 

"  No  ;  the  iron  was  hot." 

"  Look  at  me,  Sitara.     Tell  me  the  truth." 

The  soft  eyes  looked  into  hers  v/onderingly. 

"  Why  should  I  not  tell  the  truth  ?"  she  said,  sim 
ply.  "  lie  cannot  find  me  here  if  you  take  care  of 
me." 

"  Sitara,  is  this  true  ?  Did  Mohun  Lai  take  a  hot 
iron  and  burn  you,  knowing  what  he  was  doing  '.  " 

"  Surely  ?  why  not  ? " 


SlTARA.  285 

"But  why  did  lie  do  this,"  asked  Sidney,  sternly. 
She  wtis  bewildered  at  the  indifferent  way  the  girl  re 
garded  the  wound.  It  spoke  of  familiarity  with 
worse  things  than  burns. 

Sitara  drew  the  folds  of  her  chuddar  over  her  face, 
and  her  head  went  lower  and  lower,  and  she  half 
whispered  : 

"  He  came  when  my  mother  was  away — and — and — 
I  did  not  please  him,  and  because  of  his  anger  he  made 
the  iron  hot  to  punish  me." 

Sidney  was  appalled.  Then  these  things  were  true 
of  which  she  was  always  hearing  vague  hints,  and  of 
which  she  now  and  then  read  accounts  in  the  English 
papers,  given  in  no  vague  terms,  of  men  beating  their 
child-wives,  starving  them,  burning  them  with  irons, 
and  of  their  dying  from  all  kinds  of  injuries.  Of 
course,  she  had  believed  these  accounts,  but  she  had 
not  realized  what  it  really  meant  until  she  saw  this 
pretty  girl  shivering  and  crouching  with  shame  at 
the  very  thought  of  what  she  had  undergone. 

"  And,  Miss  Sahib" — gaining  courage  as  she  felt 
Sidney's  arms  about  her — Hie  told  me  he  could  kill 
me,  that  he  would  do  so  unless  I  obeyed  him,  and  no 
one  would  know,  as  it  was  his  own  house  we  were  in, 
and  the  deep,  deep  well  by  the  house  was  also  his  and 
had  no  voice  ;  and,  Miss  Sahib,  I  tell  you,  his  eyes 
were  red  and  glaring  as  the  eyes  of  the  tiger  in  the 
jungle."  She  was  trembling  so  much  with  fear  that 
she  could  hardly  speak,  but  with  great  effort  she  went 
on  :  "  lie  came  always  when  my  mother  was  gone,  and 
the  servant,  who  also  feared  my  mother  and  this  evil 
man,  thought  with  me  that  my  mother  knew  he  came, 
that  he  had  found  out  I  was  a  widow  and  now  would 


286  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

not  marry  me,  but  would  buy  me,  and  that  my  mother 
would  allow  the  arrangement." 

The  last  words  were  so  low  that  her  voice  could 
just  be  heard  and  the  words  only  guessed  at,  and  then, 
except  for  her  sobs,  there  was  silence — a  silence  of 
fear  and  horror  on  her  listener's  part,  fear  for  the  girl 
and  horror  that  a  mother,  a  mother  could  do  this  hide 
ous  thing ! 

Suddenly  the  girl  started  up  with  a  new  fear,  as 
Sidney  made  no  answer,  and  throwing  herself  at  her 
friend's  feet  she  clasped  them  in  her  little  trembling 
hands. 

"O,  my  dear  Miss  Sahib,  you  will  not  let  him 
come?  You  promised,  you  promised!'1''  The  last 
words  were  almost  a  shriek. 

"  Hush,  my  child,  nothing  shall  harm  you.  Do  not 
fear.  God  will  care  for  you  if  you  put  your  trust  in 
him.  Now  lie  do\vn  on  this  mattress  and  go  to  sleep, 
for  I  must  go  to  sleep  myself,  and  get  strength  for  my 
work  to-morrow;  you  will  be  alone,  but  you  need 
riot  fear,  as  this  room  is  a  secret  drawer;  even  I  had 
forgotten  it,  and  only  thought  to  hide  the  ugly 
door  and  keep  out  draughts  in  the  cold  weather  by 
a  curtain  ;  but " — turning  back — "  when  have  you 
had  food?" 

"Not  for  days.  It  was  thus  that  I  could  make  my 
mother  fear,  because  if  I  died  it  was  only  that  she 
would  lose  the  money  for  me."" 

"Then  I  must  <ret   you  something:  will   YOU  eat 

O  !/  O      *  ••• 

our  food  ? " 

There  was  no  answer.  She  did  not  like  to  be  rude, 
and  yet  there  was  the  old  iron-bound  caste  to  make 
her  shrink. 


SITARA.  287 

"Did  you  never  eat  with  the  other  women  at  Miss 
Whitlow's  and  with  Shew  Pershad  ?  He  was  a  Chris 
tian." 

"  Never ;  always  alone  at  Miss  Whitlow  Sahib's, 
and  after  him  when  with  Shew  Pershad ;  it  is  not 
our  custom  to  eat  with  men." 

"But  think  a  moment.  Did  he  give  you  no  sweets 
or  any  part  of  his  food  2 " 

"Sweets,  yes,  when  we  were  on  the  railway  train, 
and  white  English  bread,  but — that  was  different." 

"  No  ;  if  you  took  bread  from  his  hand  your  caste 
was  broken  then,  and  now  it  will  not  matter." 

Sitara  was  silent.  It  was  a  shock  to  her  that  no 
person  of  white  skin  can  ever  comprehend.  Every 
instinct  "of  her  nature  was  against  her  eating  with 
Christians,  as  with  one  of  lower  caste. 

"I  will  bring  you  food,  for  if  you  die  you  well 
know  they  would  tell  it  in  all  the  zenanas  that  I 
killed  you." 

"  Then  I  will  eat,"  she  said,  simply. 

Having  brought  her  some  bread  and  butter,  the 
only  thing  she  could  get  without  being  noticed,  she 
kissed  her  and  went  away  with  a  heavy  yet  thankful 
heart — thankful  that  she  had  not  entirely  refused  to 
let  the  girl  come,  and  thankful  that  the  poor  thing 
was  out  of  the  clutches  of  those  people.  She  could 
only  say  over  and  over  again  to  herself, 

"What  a  mother!  what  a  mother!" 

The  next  day  was  a  trying  one.  The  heat  was 
greater  or  her  strength  was  less,  but  the  zenanas  all 
had  to  be  visited  jnst  the  same,  only  she  intended,  on 
Sitara' s  account,  to  make  the  visits  shorter,  though 
the  child  was  quite  happy  in  the  little  room  with  some 


288  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

bright  bits  of  cloth  and  a  doll,  whose  clothes  were  a 
never-ending  source  of  interest. 

Sidney  found  the  doors  of  two  houses  closed,  and 
no  sound  came  when  she  knocked.  It  did  not  look 
as  though  all  was  right,  for  they  were  houses  where 
she  was  regularly  expected.  A  little  anxious  she 
went  on  to  another,  a  favorite  place,  because  the 
women  there  were  more  intelligent  and  the  man,  the 
head  of  the  house,  decidedly  sensible  and  liberal  in 
his  opinions.  The  door  was  shut,  but  in  answer  to 
the  usual  "  May  I  come  ? "  a  voice  said  : 

"We  are  all  sick  and  cannot  see  you  to-day." 

"  But  if  you  are  sick  I  can  at  least  read  you  good 
words,  and  I  can  also  tell  the  Doctor  Miss  Sahib,  and 
she  will  come  and  make  you  well." 

She  could  not  believe  they  did  not  wish  to  see  her, 
for  they  had  been  so  affectionate  and  bright  and  so 
earnest  in  their  efforts  to  improve  themselves  and 
their  homes. 

"  No,  no,"  was  the  answer  in  lower  tones ;  "  we  are 
forbidden  to  read  any  more;"  and  very  low,  with 
mouth  near  the  door,  "  We  are  sorry  !  our  hearts  are 
fallen  down  with  sorrow,  but  we  are  forbidden." 

Sidney  could  echo  her  words;  her  heart,  also,  had 
"  fallen  down."  The  walls  must  have  heard  and  told 
the  air  that  a  girl  wished  to  become  a  Christian  and 
had  run  away  from  her  home.  How  else  could  these 
people,  so  far  from  Mohun  Lai's  house,  know,  and 
this  was  only  the  beginning  of  a  bitter  trial,  she  now 
knew ;  for  if  these  people  who  loved  her  and  had  so 
much  confidence  in  her  would  give  her  up  because 
they  had  only  heard  idle  rumors — and  this  must  be 
all  they  could  have  heard — then  others  who  cared  less 


Si  I  AHA. 

for  her  and  for  her  teaching  would  also  close  their 
doors  against  lier. 

She  went  back  to  her  wooden  gari,  the  smell  of  its 
paint  blistering  and  burning  in  the  sun  making  her 
sick  and  faint.  She  got  in  with  difficulty  and  swung 
the  wooden  doors  to  with  a  wish  to  shut  out  the  whole 
world — the  world  of  her  work  in  which  she  had  put 
her  heart;  the  world  that  was  for  the  first  time  show 
ing  its  thorny  side  to  her.  The  distance  from  the 
ground  to  her  room  seemed  too  long  to  be  traversed, 
but  she  pulled  herself  up  by  the  railing,  and  when  in 
her  room  threw  herself  on  the  bed  to  rest  a  few  mo 
ments  before  going  to  Sitaraand  to  try  to  think;  but 
her  head  was  throbbing,  and  she  could  only  rest. 
Soon  rising,  she  went  out  and  got  more  food,  and,  tak 
ing  it  to  Sitara,  found  her  tranquil  and  happy,  having 
made  two  whole  garments  for  the  beloved  doll. 

That  night  about  midnight  a  gari  drove  up,  and 
Mary  Harris,  who  slept  in  the  arm  of  the  old  palace 
that  stretched  out  to  the  native  houses,  heard  the 
chaukedar  say  to  some  one  in  the  gari  : 

4i  Go  away,  you  rascals.  We  are  not  women- 
thieves.  Why  should  you  come  here  with  such  lie 
words  ? " 

"But  I  tell  you,"  was  the  answer,  i; you  are  ras 
cals,  and  your  fathers  before  you  and  your  ancestors 
for  all  generations.  The  girl  has  been  stolen,  and  we 
hive  eaten  great  offense." 

Then  the  answer: 

'•  Your  ancestors  were  inhabitants  of  the  jungle, 
and  you  will  return  to  the  jungle  in  the  body  of  a 
jackal  when  yon  die,  and  I  will  waste  no  more  time 
with  you.  Only  that  I  may  sleep  now.  when  all  peo- 


290  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

pie  of  honest  disposition  are  sleeping,  I  will  tell  you 
again  that  the  Miss  Sahib  conies  and  goes  alone,  shut 
up  in  her  gari,  and  wants  none  of  the  low  caste  women 
of  your  house.  All  these  days  do  I  not  sit  at  the 
gate  and  see  who  goes  out  and  in,  and  would  I  not 
know  if  any  outsiders  came  in  ?  And  none  at  all  have 
come  but  sahib  people,  and  even  your  arrogance 
would  hardly  declare  that  you  .were  of  the  sahib 
caste." 

This  sort  of  conversation,  called  "'giving  gali,"  in 
tensified  a  hundredfold,  went  on  for  some  time.  Fi 
nally  the  man  in  the  gari  said,  as  he  drove  away  : 

"  I  will  go  to  the  magistrate,  and  then  with  the 
paper  from  him  I  will  find  out  whether  or  not  you 
are  the  outcast  servant  of  a  woman-thief." 

There  was  some  conversation  among  the  servants 
who  had  been  aroused,  and  then  all  again  was  quiet. 

Mary  could  only  hope  that  Miss  Mellen  had  not 
heard  the  noise  and  would  know  nothing  of  it  until 
morning,  at  least;  but  she  slept  little,  wondering  what 
could  be  done,  but  perfectly  sure  that  the  man  would 
return  with  a  warrant. 

The  next  morning,  as  Sidney  was  going  out  of  the 
gate,  two  men  in  police  uniform,  with  fierce-looking 
pugris  on  their  heads,  came  with  a  paper  from  the 
magistrate,  which  was,  as  Sidney  feared  (for  she  had 
been  warned  by  Mary  of  the  man's  threat),  a  sum 
mons  for  her  to  appear  before  the  court  and  show 
that  she  had  not  stolen  or  abducted  Sitara,  the  child 
of  one  Moon i a. 

Sidney  felt  the  blood  leave  her  face  as  she  said 
briefly  that  she  would  be  there  at  the  required  time. 

Mrs.  Clinton  heard  of  this,  for  before  many  hours 


SiTARA.  291 

it  was  all  over  the  mission,  and,  indeed,  well  over  Luck- 
now,  and  offered  to  go  to  court  with  her,  which  was 
a  great  comfort  to  Sidney.  And  all  the  mission  peo 
ple  during  the  two  days  that  intervened  before  she 
was  to  appear  came  with  expressions  of  sympathy  and 
offers  of  assistance.  Carnton  alone  did  not  come,  and 
she  thought  it  cowardly  of  him,  and  hardened  her 
heart  against  him.  . 

The  magistrate  wished  to  make  it  as  little  embar 
rassing  for  her  as  possible,  and  perhaps  shortened  the 
inquiry  that  she  might  not  be  kept  in  suspense.  But 
it  was  not  pleasant ;  the  dirty  court  room,  the  crowds 
of  staring  natives,  the  answering  of  questions,  even 
though- kindly  and  respectfully  put. 

She  was  cleared  of  any  intent  of  abduction,  but 
Sitara,  poor  little  Sitara,  was  consigned  to  her  moth 
er's  care,  as  she  was  under  age,  and  was  taken  shriek 
ing  out  of  the  court  room,  and  the  last  glimpse  of  her 
Sidney  had  was  just  before  the  gari  door  closed  on 
her.  when  she  was  sobbing  too  violently  to  see  the 
loving,  longing  eyes  resting  on  her;  and  thus  the  child 
went  back  into  the  impenetrable  darkness  and  shadow 
of  native  life. 

The  magistrate,  seeing  Sidney's  despairing  face, 
said  : 

"  It  is  the  law,  and  I  can  only  execute  it,  though  I 
am  firmly  convinced  in  this  case  the  law  is  not  just, 
but,"  in  the  usual  cry,  "  what  can  /do?" 

Her  work  was  almost  stopped,  as  from  the  first  day 
she  had  known  it  would  be.  It  had  been  told  from 
house  to  house,  this  story  of  abduction  ;  it  had  been 
told  at  the  bathing  ghats  as  the  women  put  the  finish- 
iiiL>-  touches  to  their  toilets  ;  and  it  was  told  at  wed- 


292  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

ding  feasts  as  a  warning  to  foolish  people  who  would 
trust  the  strange  Miss  Sahibs  in  their  houses,  and 
servants,  as  they  chatted  on  the  road  with  their  babies 
out  for  an  airing,  or  sat  around  their  food  at  night, 
told  it. 

Though  many  men  knew  that  Sitarahad  run  away  to 
escape  from  her  mother  and  this  man  Mohun  Lai,  and 
also  knew  of  their  cruel  treatment,  it  was  not  well  to 
let  the  women  think  this  was  the  reason  of  her  flight ; 
it  was  better  to  let  them  think  the  Miss  Mellon  Sahib, 
in  her  eagerness  to  make  Christians,  stole  her,  impris 
oned  her  until  she  was  starving,  and  then  gave  her  food 
when  she  was  too  hungry  to  refuse,  and  thus  broke 
her  caste  ;  also  that  she  had  used  some  sort  of  witch 
craft  by  which  she  had  cast  a  spell  over  her,  and  even 
though  she  had  come  back  to  her  mother  it  was  as 
one  possessed  of  an  evil  spirit.  Many  a  heart  stopped 
beat  in  sy  from  fear,  manv  a  mother  vowed  that  never 

O  v 

should  the  hateful  Miss  Sahibs  bring  their  witchcraft 
into  their  houses  again  ;  so  from  one  and  another  house 
Sidney  went  and  found  each  one  shut,  and  no  response 
to  her  call  for  admittance.  Now  and  then  some  of 
the  women  that  had  been  visited  for  years  would  ask 
her  in  timidly,  and  perhaps  shyly  put  forth  questions 
which  she  was  glad  to  hear,  for  it  gave  her  a  chance 
to  explain.  But  perhaps  the  next  time  she  went  she 
would  again  be  refused  admittance,  and  the  nervous 
and  debilitated  condition  of  her  system  and  the  great 
heat  made  all  this  even  more  crushing  than  it  would 

O 

have  been  had  she  been  well.  Mary  Harris  warned 
her  to  be  careful,  and  begged  her  to  stay  away  from 
her  work  or  go  away  for  a  change  of  air,  as  it  was 
quite  possible  that  her  life  was  not  safe. 


SlTARA.  293 

13ut  Sidney  replied,  sadly  : 

"  I  am  not.  here  to  save  my  life.  I  must  go  on  as 
long  as  there  is  one  house  open,  that  I  may  prove  that 
all  they  are  saying  is  not  true;  but" — and  the  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks — "  I  did  not  think  there  were 
so  few  of  all  the  people  for  whom  I  have  been  spend 
ing  all  my  life,  and  whom  I  thought  loved  me,  so  few 
who  were  true  to  me  and  who  really  trusted  me. 
What  could  I  have  done  but  let  that  child  stay  with 
me  ?  It  has  brought  disaster  on  my  work,  but  I  am 
sure  it  was  right.  It  must  have  been  right." 

She  was  not  now  burdened  with  work,  nor  were 
Matain  Gini  nor  Hannah  Leach  nor  Mary  Harris  and 
Lily  Jahans.  So  they  spent  an  hour  each  day  talking 
over  the'best  plans  for  work — whether  it  was  best  to 
teach,  in  any  house  where  they  would  not  be  allowed 
to  teach  the  Bible,  and  whether  it  was  worth  while 
to  spend  time  teaching  the  women  to  sew  when  there 
was  enough  Bible-teaching  to  fill  up  all  the  hours. 
And  then  they  had  long  Bible  lessons,  bringing  out 
new  thoughts  and  new  ways  of  presenting  old  truths. 
Sidney  had  often  wished  for  this,  but  their  time  was 
so  taken  up  with  teaching  that  they  could  only  have 
their  lessons  once  a  week,  except,  of  course,  the  pre 
paratory  prayer  and  Bible  lesson  for  the  day's  work. 

Then  they  also  went  out  to  the  villages  near  Lucknow, 
which  had  been  heretofore  unvisited.  The  distance 
was  long  and  consequently  exhausting,  yet  they  were 
welcomed,  and  as  the  days  went  by  they  grew  cheer 
ful  again,  though  Sidney  could  not  get  over  the  sense 
of  wrong  and  injury  because  her  native  friends  had 
given  her  up  so  readily.  There  was  the  worst  sting 
possible  in  this  to  her — the  hardest  thing  a  conscien- 


294:  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

tious  person  can  have  to  bear — the  feeling  that  her 
work  must  have  been  faulty  and  imperfect,  else  she 
would  have  had  a  stronger  hold  on  them  after  giving 
up  years  of  her  life  to  serving  them. 

Then  she  had  another  thing  to  weigh  on  her.  Carn 
ton  was  distant  and  cool.  She  had  felt  sure  of  a  little 
sympathy,  but  there  was  none,  and  she  felt  lost  and 
alone  and  forlorn.  She  knew  he  loathed  any  publicity 
for  women,  and  she  knew  he  did  not  like,  abstractly, 
the  thought  of  anv  woman  in  whom  he  was  interested 

O  •' 

ti>  live  alone,  or  to  have  a  work  of  her  own  that  made 
her  in  any  way  prominent,  though  he  said  he  honored 
and  revered  the  single  ladies  that  were  in  mission 
work,  and  confessed  that  their  work  was  even  more 
important  than  his  own. 

Knowing  this  she  only  thought  that  he  could  not 
be  friendly  with  a  woman  whose  name  was  in  the 
mouth  of  native  and  European  alike  throughout  the 
whole  city,  and,  in  fact,  throughout  the  Northwest. 
It  Was  not  noble  in  him  ;  this  she  acknowledged,  yet 
she  could  not  find  a  harsh  thought  in  her  heart  for 
him.  She  only  felt  it  as  an  added  burden,  and  won 
dered  sometimes  if  there  could  be  any  other  calamity 
in  store  for  her,  and,  if  there  were,  whether  it  could 
add  anything  to  her  suffering.  Her  pretty  color  had 
long  ago  faded,  her  mouth  drooped  in  a  pathetic  way, 
and  yet  there  was  a  courage  and  a  patient  endurance  in 
her  face  which  had  never  been  there  before,  and  which 
made  Mrs.  Clinton  take  her  in  her  arms  and  say, 
"  My  poor  child,  this  is  too  much  for  you  to  bear.'' 
"  Yes,  too  much  for  me  to  bear  alone,"  she  an 
swered,  with  quivering  lips  ;  ''but  I  am  not  bearing 
it  alone  ;  I  could  not." 


A    CHUUCII    FOR  EXGLISII-SI'EAKIMJ    I'EOPLE. 


DANGEROUS  ENEMIES.  295 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

DANGEROUS    ENEMIES. 

hostile  tribes  on  the  frontier  of  the  English  or 
_L  American  housewife  are  not  many,  nor  are  they 
strategic  in  their  operations.  They  are  known  ;  their 
methods  of  attack  are  also  known,  and,  though  ever 
present,  they  yield  to  a  persistent  fire  of  brooms, 
dusters,  and  scrubbing-brushes,  backed  by  a  few  acces 
sories. 

But  in  India,  though  the  warfare  may  be  long  and 
the  ground  well  contested,  the  housewife  is  ever  on 

o 

the  losing  side ;  and  if  she  be  wise  she  finally  yields 
to  opposing  forces,  both  of  nature  and  human  nature, 
glad  to  save  a  remnant  of  the  sweet  temper  and 
pleasant  disposition  upon  which  she  had  erst  prided 
herself. 

Mrs.  Clinton  arrived  in  the  winter,  but  hardly  had 
she  stopped  shivering  in  her  big,  empty  house  when 
the  lu  began  to  blow. 

Now  the  lii  is  not  a  wind  to  be  regarded  lightly, 
either  from  its  character  or  its  effects.  It  is  hot, 
dry,  and  dust-laden,  and  though  it  is  not,  as  tradition 
has  it,  immediately  fatal  in  its  effects,  it  often  amounts 
to  the  same  thing  in  the  end.  It  begins  in  the  morn 
ing  and  howls  steadily  all  day.  While  it  is  going  all 
doors  and  windows  are  closed,  and  after  a  week  or 

two  corked,  for  it  shrinks  everything  shrinkable.     It 
21 


296  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

is  so  full  of  sand  that  even  though  doors  are  closed 
and  corked  it  is  possible  to  write  one's  name  on  any 
smooth  surface  an  hour  after  the  article  in  question 
has  been  dusted. 

Not  only  does  it  fill  the  house  and  every  thing 
therein  with  dust,  but  everybody  seems  permeated 
with  it.  Eyelids  grate  on  the  eyeball  as  they  wink ; 
nostrils  are  dry  and  parched ;  the  throat  feels  as 
though  lined  with  sandpaper,  and  even  the  temper 
seems  to  be  so  full  of  it  that  only  a  state  of  constant 
irritation  is  possible.  In  the  wake  of  this  wind  are 
neuralgia,  toothache,  rheumatism,  croup,  fever,  and 
general  leanness  of  soul. 

Mrs.  Clinton  had  put  up  the  few  draperies  and 
pictures  that  she  had  brought  and  bought,  but  they 
were  only  very  small  oases  in  the  dreary  desert  of  her 
whitewashed  rooms,  and  sometimes  she  had  been 
tempted  to  wish  the  missionary  allowance  were  a  lit 
tle  larger,  that  she  might  be  able  to  make  the  house  a 
little  less  bare ;  especially  did  she  wish  for  carpets, 
as  the  matting  was  not  only  very  coarse,  but  it  wore 
out  so  very  quickly  that  she  saw  there  would  not  in 
the  end  be  much  economy  in  having  it.  But  after 
the  lu  began  to  blow,  her  longing  for  more  furniture, 
except  in  the  matter  of  carpets,  ceased,  for  every  extra 
picture  and  drapery  and  curtain  was  only  a,  trap  for 
dust  and  other  and  worse  things.  Her  first  disen 
chantment  was  brought  about  by  the  beautiful  skin  of 
a  peafowl  that  she  had  bought  in  a  fit  of  extrava 
gance.  It  was  not  very  wild  extravagance,  as  she 
paid  only  one  rupee  for  it,  but  she  counted  every 
pice  with  a  nervousness  that  she  had  never  before  in 
her  life  experienced,  for,  no  matter  how  well  and 


DANGEROUS  KM;.MIK>.  297 

easily  she  thought  she  was  going  through  the  month, 
there  were  so  many  unexpected  incidentals  that  she 
had  found  herself  getting  in  debt.  This  was  some 
thing  that  had  never  happened  to  her  before  in  her 
life;  and  she  did  not  mean  to  buy  an y  unnecessary 
thing,  but  this  peafowl's  plumage  was  so  beautiful  that 
she  could  not  resist  it.  It  was  simply  the  whole  skin 
ready  cured  for  stuffing.  Driving  in  a  nail  she  hung 
it  in  a  bare  side  of  the  room  where  the  light  fell  full 
on  the  brilliant  iridescence  of  green  and  gold,  and 
delighted  her  eyes  many  a  day  when  she  was  too  ex 
hausted  to  read  or  think. 

One  morning,  being  up  before  the  sweeper  had 
swept,  she  saw  on  the  matting  underneath  where  the 
skin  hung  a  little  shower  of  feathers,  and,  with  a  sink 
ing  heart,  examined  it  only  to  find  it  full  of  larva1, 
and  though  she  had  it  thoroughly  cleaned  and  pow 
dered  with  arsenic,  yet  she  took  no  more  pleasure  in 
it,  for  there  were  apt  to  be  bits  of  feathers  now  and 
then  floating  down  from  it.  Finally  it  was  removed 
and  given  to  the  servant's  children,  who  built  little 
gardens  with  the  long  feathers  in  the  hot  sand. 

The  next  disappointment  was  in  her  steamer-rug. 
It  was  such  a  soft,  pretty  rug,  and  with  it  she  had 
draped  the  old  cane-seated  couch  which  helped  eke 
out  the  scanty  supply  of  chairs  in  her  parlor.  She 
had  been  ill  a  week,  and  when  coming  around  again 
as  she  dusted  a  little  here  and  there  she  found  it  fairly 
filled  with  tiny  black  burs  that  eat  at  the  rate  of  ten 
knots  to  the  hour.  Holding  the  rug  up  toward  the 
door  she  was  appalled  to  see  daylight  through  it  at  a 
hundred  points. 

The  third  trial  was  a   bit  of  gold  and  terra  cotta 


298  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

colored  embroidery  she  bought  while  with  Mrs.  Mac 
kenzie.  She  had  draped  it  over  an  unsightly  air  hole 
between  the  dining  room  and  parlor.  It  \vas  of  cotton, 
and  she  had  no  fears  for  it,  but  this  too  was  riddled 
out  by  the  shining  slimy  fish-moth,  the  bete  noire  of 
all  good  housewives. 

Most  moths  are  fairly  respectable  in  their  way,  and 
have  a  choice  of  food,  keeping  strictly  to  one  diet,  but 
this  creature  is  a  perfect  scavenger,  taking  wool,  cot 
ton,  and  linen,  and  especially  does  it  delight  in  starched 
clothes,  in  which  most  people  of  India  abound;  but 
more  than  all  the  hatred  and  aversion  lavished  on 
these  moths  is  that  poured  in  spirit  on  the  heads  of 
the  Indian  crickets;  not  the  big,  brown,  homely  cricket 
that  sits  by  the  chimney-corner  and  sings,  and  inspires 
teakettles  to  sing  also,  but  a  little  pale  yellow  crea 
ture,  whose  motto  is, 

"  The  cricket  who  eats  and  hops  away 
May  live  to  eat  and  hop  another  day  ;  " 

and  perhaps  this  may  be  the  reason  why  he,  more  than 
all  other  foes  of  the  housekeeper,  is  the  most  dreaded. 
Even  an  occasional  cobra  in  the  bath  room,  or  many 
scorpions  under  the  matting,  or  centipedes  dropping 
from  the  ceiling,  do  not  inspire  the  terror  that  the 
cricket  does  when  one  finds  he  is  in  the  house  to  stay. 
He  usually  comes  to  stay  when  he  does  come,  and 
when  firmly  established  in  a  house  nothing  short  of 
burning  down  the  house  will  exterminate  him,  as  he 
thrives  brilliantly  on  carbolic  acid,  kerosene  oil,  and 
nitrate  of  silver.  This  is  his  first  bad  point,  and  his 
second  is  the  rapidity  of  his  wrork,  which  is  in  fact  so 
summary  that  it  permits  no  interference  whatever. 


DAXCKKOUS  ENEMIES.  299 

The  first  of  his  handiwork  Mrs.  Clinton  saw  was  on 
a  new  light-weight  flannel  coat  of  the  Bishop's.  He 
had  had  it  made  and  sent  home,  and  wore  it  one  after 
noon.  Taking  it  up  the  next  morning  he  found  one 
sleeve  and  the  back  perforated. 

The  second  specimen  was  rather  a  masterpiece  in  its 
way.  Mrs.  Clinton  had  found  her  kid  boots  covered 
with  the  green  mold  of  ages  one  day  after  a  month 
of  the  rains.  On  inquiry  she  was  told  that  they 
should  have  been  kept  in  a  tin-lined  box,  but  since 
they  had  once  been  covered  with  mildew  if  she  wished 
to  save  them  she  would  better  have  them  blackened 
every  other  day  until  the  close  of  the  rains,  even  if 
she  did  not  expect  to  wear  them.  So  there  was  a  row 
of  boots'and  slippers  to  be  blackened  each  day,  and  it 
was  the  bearer's  work,  when  he  could  not  get  the 
sweeper  to  do  it. 

Looking  at  the  kid  boots  and  also  a  pair  of  Lillian's 
one  morning,  she  thought  her  eyes  must  have  been 
deceiving  her  ;  but  no,  they  were  the  same  boots,  but 
every  bit  of  the  upper  surface  of  the  kid  had  been 
gnawed  off,  leaving  fantastically  mottled  purple 
and  white  boots.  She  had  no  words  sufficient  to  ex 
press  her  indignation,  so  she  said  nothing,  but  the  loss 
was  great,  for  she  well  knew  that  unless  some  miracle 
was  performed  they  would  have  no  more  kid  boots 
while  they  were  missionaries. 

AVhen  she  showed  them  to  her  husband  she  thought 
—I  only  say  she  tJioiujlif — she  heard  him  mutter 
something  about  '"  miserable  vermin,"  and  she  had  a 
guilty  sense  of  hoping  it  was  true;  for  such  remarks, 
even  by  proxy,  have  a  power  of  relief  not  to  be  de 
spised. 


300  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

After  Mrs.  Clinton  had  found  these  crickets  in  her 
best  Saratoga  trunk,  and  was  told  that  it  would  never 
be  safe  to  put  anything  in  it  again,  she  offered  a  pice 
for  even-  dead  cricket  brought  to  her.  She  gave  out 
a  good  many  pice,  but  as  the  crickets  did  not  dimin 
ish  in  the  rooms  she  began  to  examine  the  dead  as 
they  were  brought,  and  judged  by  the  dried  and  with 
ered  appearance  she  had  been  paying  over  and  over 
again  for  the  same  old  cricket. 

However,  she  could  not  think  of  giving  up  her  ex 
pensive  and  nearly  new  trunk,  and  she  exposed  it  open 
to  the  sun  when  the  thermometer  stood  at  170  de 
grees  for  days,  then  had  the  lining  taken  out,  and  paste 
made  of  flour  mixed  with  two  or  three  things  said  to  be 
deadly  to  all  the  insect  tribe,  and  new  lining  bought  ; 
then  a  man  came  up  from  the  bazar  and  worked  two 
days  and  lined  it  fairly  well.  She  congratulated  her 
self  on  her  economv  and  clever  management  until, 

*<  O 

thinking  one  day  she  would  fill  it  with  winter  clothing 
she  opened  it  and  a  half-dozen  crickets  hopped  out, 
and  she  found  the  lining  a  tissue  of  rags.  This 
was  the  straw  that  broke  this  housewife's  back, 
but  the  Bishop,  though,  he  sighed  sympathetically, 
was  not  entirely  discouraged  until  he,  too,  had  his 
Waterloo, 

Dr.  Thompson,  who  had  been  in  the  house  before 
him,  asked  him  the  day  he  was  leaving,  which  was 
the  day  before  the  Bishop  entered  the  house,  if  he 
might  put  his  books  in  his  care.  The  Bishop  was 
very  glad  indeed  to  have  them,  as  he  had  felt  it  a 
great  privation  to  be  without  books  for  a  year, 
and  one  which  he  had  contemplated  with  secret  dis 
may. 


DANGEROUS  ENEMIES.  301 

This  did  not  prevent  him  resenting  Dr.  Thompson's 
earnest  request  that  they  might  be  well  cared  for. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said,  a  little  dryly,  "  I  really  see  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  take  good  care  of  them.  I 
have  been  accustomed  to  a  fairly  good  library  all  my 
life,  and  understand  that  good  books  need  care." 

Dr.  Thompson  looked  a  little  doubtfully  at  him, 
but  said  no  more. 

But  when  a  boxwala  one  day  offered  him  a  book  at 
about  a  quarter  of  its  cost,  and  when  he  saw  Dr. 
Thompson's  name  in  the  book,  and  saw  that  it  was  the 
third  volume  of  the  History  of  England,  and  that  this 
boxwala  had  also  one  of  Thompson's  Gibbon's  Rome, 
he  remembered  that  doubtful  look  on  the  good  man's 
face,  and  concluded  that  books  in  India  require  a  kind 
of  preserving  care  of  which  he  knew  nothing,  and 
thereafter  kept  the  bookcase  locked,  and  carried  the 
key  in  his  pocket.  It  was  a  tiresome  process,  and  he 
hated  to  have  to  unlock  a  door  every  time  he  wanted 
a  book  of  reference. 

After  the  lit  began  to  blow  he  found  that  even 
though  the  bookcase  was  a  good  one  the  dust  filtered 
through  to  an  extent  that  made  him  dread  to  touch 
the  books. 

It  was  then  that  he  and  his  wife  succumbed  to  the 
necessity  of  having  a  boy  to  dust  and  look  after  the 
house  generally  ;  but  even  with  all  the  time  and  care 
the  bearer  could  give  the  Bishop  found  himself 
getting  peevish  at  the  dust.  When  the  rain  came  on  the 
books  required  much  more  care,  for  he  found  them  mil 
dewed  inside  and  out,  as  though  they  were  three  hun 
dred  years  old.  The  Bishcp  was  sad,  because  he  knew 
no  one  likes  a  musty,  mildewed  book,  but  every  bright 


302  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

sunny  day  the  bearer  spread  a  rug  out  on  tlie  walk  in 
the  sun  arid  placed  the  books  open  on  it,  and  then  sat 
by  them  until  they  were  dry,  to  prevent  the  necessity 
of  having  to  buy  back  any  more  from  wandering  box- 
walas  or  peddlers.  Of  course  this  process  was  bad  for 
the  books,  but  it  stopped  short  of  utter  ruin. 

One  morning,  as  the  three  months'  rainy  season  was 
about  half  over,  the  Bishop  was  called  into  his  study 
by  his  wife. 

"  See  here,"  she  said,  pointing  to  something  on  the 
wall  over  a  water-color  picture  that  looked  like  a 
huge  spray  of  thin  gray  coral,  "  what  do  you  sup 
pose  this  is  ? " 

He  came  closer,  climbed  on  a  chair,  touched  one 
end  of  it  with  his  finger,  when  some  of  it  crumbled 
off,  leaving  a  lot  of  little  gray  creatures  running  wildly 
about.  Looking  at  the  back  of  the  picture  he  found 
it  plastered  over  with  mud.  Then  turning  to  the  face 
again  he  saw  the  creatures  at  work  under  the  glass. 

"  Ah,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  these 
must  be  the  white  ants  of  which  we  have  heard  so 
much,  and  we  have  here  ready:made  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock's  plan  of  watching  them  under  glass.  See  them! 
They  are  organized  like  an  army  of  sappers  and  min 
ers;  each  one  has  his  beat,  and  is  relieved  by  the  man 
who  had  his  place  before  him." 

She  looked  and  saw  them  march  back  and  forth 
across  the  white  margin  of  bristol  board,  carrying1 
away  bits  of  the  Whatman's  paper  on  which  the  sketch 
was  made.  There  was  already  a  crescent-shaped  hole 
in  the  middle  of  the  sky  of  the  picture. 

"  This  is  indeed  curious,  but  we  would  better  put 
a  stop  to  it.  Dr.  Thompson  will  hardly  like  to  have 


DANGEROUS  ENEMIES.  303 

this  picture  spoiled."  But  just  then,  glancing  from 
his  post  on  the  chair  at  the  top  of  the  bookcase,  his 
face  whitened,  and  he  jumped  down,  tore  open  the 
hookcase,  took  out  a  hook,  and,  opening  it.  sank  down 
in  a  chair  in  despair.  Fearing  sudden  illness  his  wife 
rushed  to  him,  but  he  could  say  nothing,  and  only 
showed  her  the  book  in  silent  pain  and  disgust.  He 
had  respect  for  all  books,  and  felt  it  for  the  sake  of 
the  books ;  besides,  he  had  these  books  in  trust,  and  he 
felt  it  much  more  from  this  fact. 

His  wife  hastily  took  out  book  after  book  only  to 
find  them  completely  honeycombed  with  little  canals, 
winding  in  and  out  without  any  apparent  method,  full 
of  dust.  Qf  course  the  books  were  completely  ruined. 

Again  Mrs.  Clinton  thought  she  heard  ecclesiastical 
anathemas  pronounced,  but  this  time  it  was  on  the 
"  confounded  country,"  and  again  she  felt  like  saying, 
"Those  are  my  sentiments;  please  say  it  again,"  but 
she  did  not  dare. 

There  was  some  excuse  for  this  good  man.  AVithin 
the  last  week  he  had  been  tortured  beyond  endurance 
by  the  various  powers  which  seemed  in  league  against 
him.  First,  he  had  found  a  karait  coiled  on  the  wire  of 
the  lantern  kept  burning  in  his  bedroom.  A  light  is 
always  kept  at  night,  as  snakes  are  said  never  to  come 
into  a  room  where  there  is  a  light.  The  next  morning 
there  was  a  huge  cobra  in  his  bath  room,  which  wan 
dered  out  while  he  was  hunting  a  stick  with  which  to 

o 

kill  it.  The  advantage  of  being  bitten  by  a  karait  in 
stead  of  a  cobra  is  somewhat,  as  the  former  is  war 
ranted  to  kill  in  twenty-eight  minutes  and  the  latter 
in  a  half-hour.  He  had  been  bitten  nearly  mad  by 
mosquitoes,  fleas,  and  katmals ;  he  had  been  startled 


304:  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

by  huge  muskrats  running  across  his  feet  as  he  sat  at 
his  desk,  making  the  cold  chills  creep  up  his  back, 
thinking  that  a  cobra  was  at  lust  about  to  finish  him. 
He  had  been  worried  in  his  bath  by  big  ants;  he  had 
had  his  tea  flavored  by  little  ants  that  were  hidden 
in  the  sugar,  and  his  body  had  been  the  campagna  for 
a  moving  army  of  middle-sized  ants.  .He  had  thrust 
his  bare  foot  into  a  slipper  and  been  given  a  chill  by 
touching  one  of  the  numerous  little  toads  that  come 
in  droves  into  the  house  in  wet  weather ;  lie  had  had 
a  big  lizard  fall  across  his  mouth  from  the  celling 
with  a  thud  just  as  he  was  having  his  first  morning 
yawn.  He  had  found  his  new  silk  umbrella,  bought 
in  London,  riddled  by  mice,  his  new  coat  perforated 
by  crickets,  his  steamer-rug  cut  up  by  moths,  his 
writing-desk  of  teak  wood,  which  he  had  bought  with 
the  purpose  of  taking  it  home,  inhabited  by  the  grub 
that  spends  its  life  in  the  wood  and  leaves  the  desk 
worthless ;  his  new  Gladstone  bag  had  happened  to  be 
where  the  roof  broke  under  the  pressure  of  a  pour 
ing  rain  and  had  been  soaked  with  muddy  water  and 
its  natty  appearance  completely  destroyed  *  his  new 
fountain-pen  was  stolen — that  is,  it  had  disappeared 
from  the  tray  on  his  desk;  and  now  this, and  this  was 
really  the  worst ! 

Then  as  he  thought  of  it  all — of  the  horrible  dust 
and  heat  of  the  dry  season,  of  the  dreadful  mildew  and 
steam  and  slimy  dampness  and  prickly  heat  of  the  wet 
season,  of  the  cheating  and  stealing  of  the  natives,  of 
the  slowness  of  development  of  the  native  Church,  of 
the  deadly  infectious  diseases  lurking  in  every  drain, 
touching  one  in  every  breath,  ready  to  snap  the  thread 
of  life  in  a  moment — as  he  thought  of  all  this  and  of 


DANGEROUS  ENEMIES.  305 

the  languor  and  depression  and  confusion  of  mind  and 
exhaustion  of  body,  his  face  reddened,  and  he  fairly 
threw  the  book  across  the  room — across  the  room, 
mind  you — and  said  aloud  and  with  perfect  conviction, 
•'Tin's  is  a  beastly  country!"  And  then  his  wife  sat 
down  and  laughed  till  the  tears  came,  for  she  knew 
this  was  a  word  he  hated,  and  she  was  now  sure  of  the 
other  expressions,  and  they  meant  as  much  from  him 
as  many  worse  words  would  have  meant  from  another 
man,  and  they  sounded  so  strangely  funny,  for  he  had 
resolutely,  a>  became  a  bishop,  always  abstained  from 
anything  but  the  most  moderate  of  terms. 

And  in  his  exclamation  and  in  her  tears  there  \vas 
much  homesickness  and  much  longing  for  the  old, 
quiet,  reliable  existence,  and  much  loathing  of  a  coun 
try  whose  climate  and  attributes  and  accessories  per 
mit  safety  to  neither  animate  nor  inanimate  things. 

The  Bishop  did  not  smile,  lie  felt  it  all  too  much. 
.But  he  arose  and  got  the  j)<t!li/  I'io/x-cf  and  looked 
at  the  shipping  list  for  Liverpool,  and  then  said  : 

'•'  We  could  catch  the  Souctwngj  it  sails  on  the  31st." 

His  wife  stared.  In  answer  to  her  evident  amaze 
ment  he  said,  firmly  and  boldly: 

"  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  my  experiment.  I  do  not 
want  to  be  a  missionary  to  the  missionaries  any  longer. 
They  are  quite  welcome  to  any  scrap  of  comfort  they 
can  snatch  from  the  powers  that  militate  against  man 
in  this  awful  country,  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  if  I  were  a  fixture  here,  and  there  was  no  other 
honorable  way  of  escape,  I  would  take  the  first  good 
opportunity  I  could  get  of  going  to  heaven.  If  people 
choose  to  stay  here  they  may  stay,  and  if  they  want  it 
I  will  vote  to  double  their  allowance,  but  let  us  go." 


300  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

His  wife's  face  was  bright  with  relief.  She  felt 
she  could  shout  for  joy;  but  then  they  would  not  be 
fulfilling  their  contract  if  they  did  this,  and  how 
people  would  laugh,  and  the  missionaries,  especially 
Mrs.  Mackenzie,  would  actually  chaff  them,  and  with 
reason  ;  and  there  was  too  much  obstinacy  in  her 
nature  to  give  up  quickly.  So  she  said,  wearily : 

"  O,  no,  we  cannot  do  that.  The  people  at  home 
know  our  plan  and  are  expecting  much  from  it ;  and 
we  promised  to  do  in  all  things  as  missionaries  do, 
and  you  know  they  cannot  throw  up  their  appoint 
ments,  and  leave  when  they  are  tired  and  discouraged. 
AVe  must  stay,  and  then  we  can  speak  with  authority." 

"  My  dear,  I  can  say  all  I  will  have  time  to,  with 
all  the  authority  I  want,  and  more  than  will  be  lis 
tened  to  ;  and  if  I  vote  to  double  their  allowance  and 
to  give  them  full  power  to  use  the  plans  that  seem 
best  to  them,  that  will  speak  strongly  enough." 

"But  it  would  not  do  to  bring  Lillian  down  into 
the  heat,  even  for  the  week  it  would  take  us  to  get  to 
Bombay  ;  and  there  are  the  schools  and  your  tracts  and 
the  Chandausi  mela  and  the  Conference  ;  besides,  you 
have  been  so  tied  to  this  work  you  have  had  no  time 
to  see  the  other  mission  stations.  Of  course  we  can 
now  speak  for  the  Lucknow  work,  but  there  are  hun 
dreds  of  people  who  want  to  know  of  Bareilly,  Morad- 
abad,  Calcutta,  and  Bombay;  and" — winding  up  with 
the  remark — "you  know,  dear,  you  promised." 

During  t\vo  or  three  days  following  this  conversa 
tion  Mrs.  Clinton  learned  how  uncomfortable  it  is  to 
live  in  the  same  house  with  a  person  who  silently  re 
sents  a  position  into  which  he  has  put  himself  but 
out  of  which  he  cannot  take  himself. 


ROKEWOOD'S  ILLNESS.  307 


I 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ROKE  WOOD'S     I  L  L  X  E  S  S . 

T  was  near  the  close  of  the  rains,  and  the  day  had 
been  a  little  more  stifling  than  usual.  It  had  re 
quired  a  little  more  of  an  effort  to  rise  in  the  morning, 
a  little  more  of  an. effort  to  dress,  and  a  little  more  of 
self-persuasion  to  pnt  one  foot  before  the  other  when 
it  seemed  necessary  to  cross  the  room.  There  was  a 
little  less  air  that  was  fit  for  breathing  and  a  little  less 
strength  to  draw  the  breath ;  for  what  had  been  left 
from  the  ravages  of  the  hot  winds  had  been  pilfered 
by  the  damp  heat  of  the  monsoons ;  what  vigor  had 
not  been  burned  out  in  the  dry  weather  had  been 
steamed  out  in  the  wet. 

Katie  Mackenzie  had  been  having  fever  for  a  week, 
when  the  doctor  had  ordered  both  her  and  her  mother 
off  to  the  mountains  for  a  month,  as  they  were  very 
much  reduced  ;  and  Mackenzie  had  just  finished  his 
lonely  tea  in  the  morning  and  was  starting  out  to  the 
publishing  house,  when  Rokewood  came  wearily  np 
the  steps  with  his  valise  in  his  hand  as  usual  ana 
sank  down  in  a  chair,  took  off  his  topi,  and  fanned 
himself  without  speaking.  Seeing  he  was  ghastly 
pale,  Mackenzie  asked,  anxiously  : 

"What  is  the  matter?  You  look  completely 
fagged."  _ 

"  That  is  just  it !     I  am  fagged — exhausted ;  I  did 


308  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

not  want  to  wait  at  the  station  for  anything  to  eat, 
for  in  addition  to  the  cost  of  breakfast  I  would  have 
had  to  take  a  gari ;  for  by  the  time  I  had  eaten  it 
would  have  been  too  hot  to  walk." 

Mackenzie  uttered  an  exclamation  of  impatience, 
went  out  quickly,  and  said  to  the  servant : 

"Here,  bearer,  bring  a  glass  of  milk  at  once  for  the 
Padri  Sahib,  and  having  done  this  prepare  tea  and 
toast  at  once,  and  mind  that  you  bring  it  hot." 

And  taking  the  milk  he  strode  back  to  Rokewood, 
who  took  it  and  drank  it  eagerly.  Then  Mackenzie, 
whose  face  was  r.s  stern  as  liis  voice,  said  : 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  risking  your  life  in  this 
manner?  Do  you  think  it  no  sin  to  commit  suicide  '"' 

Rokewood  smiled  faintly. 

"  Of  course  I  think  it  wrong,  and  even  if  I  did  not 
I  would  not  do  it ;  I  love  life  too  well." 

"  But  if  you  take  a  course  that  your  common  sense 
tells  you,  or  ought  to  tell  you,  is  calculated  to  kill  you, 
how  do  you  differ  from  Sita  Ram,  who  killed  himself 
yesterday  in  the  bazar  with  a  knife  ?  He  did  what 
he  believed  would  kill  him  in  a  short  time ;  you  do 
what  will  kill  you  just  as  surely,  though  it  may  take 
a  little  longer  to  do  it." 

Mackenzie  was  apprehensive  of  resentment  on 
Rokewood's  part,  but  there  was  none.  He  only  an 
swered,  meditatively : 

"Something  like  that  seemed  to  strike  me  for  the 
first  time  as  I  came  along.  I  suppose  there  is  a  limit 
to  what  we  can  stand,  and  I  begin  to  think  the  limit 
is  much  sooner  reached  here  than  in  any  other  coun 
try  in  the  world;  and  God  wants  men  to  live,  not  to 
die,  for  him.  There  are  not  too  munv  workers.'' 


ROKEWOOD'S   II.L.NKSS. 

"Too  many?  They  arc  counted  by  tens  where 
they  should  be  counted  by  hundreds,  and  whoever 
unnecessarily  risks  lessening  the  number  sins!" 
This  was  said  with  indignant  energy. 

The  tea  was  brought,  and  then  Mackenzie  asked  : 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  to-day?  Tell  me 
quickly,  for  I  must  be  off." 

"  O,  I  hope  to  sell  fifty  rupees'  worth  of  books.  I 
am  behind  with  my  subscriptions  for  the  Leper  Asy 
lum,  and  I  must  make  it  up.  That  was  really  why  I 
did  not  take  a  gari." 

"Well,  I  have  this  to  say,  liokewood,"  said  Mac 
kenzie,  firmly,  "you  shall  not  go  out  to-day  through 
the  heat  unless  you  hire  a  gari;  there  is  too  much 
fever  and  cholera  about.  You  are  staying  with  me, 
and  I  will  be  no  party  to  such  absolute  recklessness." 

"  Perhaps  I  will  to-day,  but  you  know  I  cannot  do 
it  often  and  live  on  my  prescribed  allowance.  You 
men  that  take  the  full  amount  forget  that  we  cannot 
do  as  you  do." 

"  Nor  could  you,  my  dear  fellow,  live  on  }your  pre 
scribed  allowance  if  we  did." 

Eokewood  looked  surprised. 

"•  I  do  not  understand,"  he  said,  simply. 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  I  know,  for  finally  saying 
what  I  have  kept  back  so  long  for  fear  of  seeming 
inhospitable  and  rude.  But  when  you  urge  us  to 
try  and  live  on  what  you  are  living,  remember  that  if 
we  were  not  prepared  to  give  you  good  food  when 
you  are  going  from  station  to  station  you  would  ex 
ceed  your  allowance  ;  that  you  are  really  not  living  on 
your  income,  but  upon  ours?  Much  of  your  Work  is 
done  when  you  are  staying  with  missionaries  who 


310  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

could  not  give  you  entertainment  if  they  tried  to  live 
on  the  miserable  pittance  you  do,  and  when  with  us 
you  do  not  live  on  native  food,  which  makes  it  an  un 
fair  test  also  in  regard  to  that;  and  when  you  say  you 
live  on  native  food  and  in  native  style,  and  thus  save 
out  of  your  allowance  enough  to  educate  a  boy,  you 
are  not  stating  the  truth." 

Rokewood's  face  flushed  and  he  looked  ashamed 
and  miserable. 

"Upon  my  word,  Mackenzie,  I  never  thought  of 
it  that  way.  I  hope  you  will  believe  me,  but  it  is 
so  much  the  custom  for  us  to  stay  with  each  other — 

"  Of  course,  and  we  want  you  to  come,  and  do  not 
want  you  to  do  anything  else  but  come,  and  we  like 
to  help  you  carry  out  your  theories,  but  you  must 
state  the  truth  and  you  must  let  us  advise  you  now 
and  then  in  return  for  it;"  and  added,  as  he  got 
no  answer,  u  I  beg  of  you,  dear  Rokewood,  don't 
look  so  hurt,  and  do  be  wise  and  sensible;  get  a 
gari  and  do  your  work,  and,  mind,  you  are  to  come 
back  promptly  at  eleven  for  breakfast ;  "  and  he  went 
off  hurriedly,  as  he  had  talked  longer  than  he  had 
intended. 

Mackenzie  did  not  feel  exactly  happy  as  he  went 
on.  In  fact,  he  felt  much  as  he  might  had  he  given  a 
friend  a  blow  in  the  face. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  Rokewood,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "though  I  have  always  meant  to  tell  him  the 
facts  of  the  case ;  but  I  lugged  it  in  by  the  neck,  and 
I  did  not  say  just  what  I  meant  to  say,  and  it  was  a 
muddle,  only  it  was  the  truth." 

All  the  morning  he  was  oppressed  by  this  feeling 
as  he  went  on  with  his  work,  and  he  hurried  home. 


1  to KK WOOD'S   Tr.i.xKss.  .'Ill 

anxious  to  see  Rokewood  and  remove  the  sting  he 
knew  his  words  had  left. 

However,  he  did  not  find   him,   and,   after   eating 

*  O 

breakfast,  lie  went  over  to  the  Bishop's  bungalow, 
thinking  he  might  be  there. 

"  AVhero  is  RokewoocH  Is  he  not  here?"  he 
asked,  anxiously,  as  he  saw  only  the  Bishop,  his  wife, 
and  Carnton  at  the  breakfast  table. 

"  Xo,  was  he  coining  here  ?  I  saw  him  in  the 
bazar,  but  we  were  both  driving  fast,  and  I  only  a-ave 

o  «/     o 

him  a  nod,  but  did  not  speak/' 

"  O,  it  is  all  right  if  he  was  in  a  gari.  He  did  not 
seem  well,  and  I  urged  him  not  t<>  walk  about  the 
city  to-dav,  but  he  did  not  promise;"  and  lie  hurried 
off. 

"  )Vell,''  said  Carnton,  as  he  ate  his  suji  and  milk. 
;>  I  am  glad  to  see  that  Rokewood  affects  someone 
else  as  ho  does  me.  He  is  always  on  my  mind,  and 
he  reproaches  me  without  meaning  it  and  exasperates 
me  without  knowing  it." 

"Why?"  asked  Mrs.  Clinton,  with  interest.  She 
was  always  interested  in  seeing  how  different  people 
affected  each  other. 

'•  "Why,  you  know  Rokewood  and  I  are  alike  in 
that  we  are  alone  in  this  country,  not  only  unmarried, 
but  likely  to  remain  so,  and  that  wre  both  are  anxious 
to  do  the  most  for  our  fellow-creatures  possible  in  the 
time  that  will  be  given  us  to  live.  lie  follows  a 
course  that  my  reason  will  not  allow  me  to  follow.  I 
have  tried  it  enough  to  know  what  would  be  the  con- 
s  '({nenccs — tried  the  native  food  and  the  native 
houses  and  the  walking  tc  and  from  work ;  but  still 
when  I  see  him  persevering  on  that  line  I  am  always 
22 


31:2  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

conscious    of    a   longing    to   do  as  he   does  and   cast 
reason  to  tlie  winds." 

"I  would  say  then  you  would  better  follow  your 
feelings,"  said  the  Bishop.  "  "We  want  more  mission 
aries  like  Hokewood.  I  tell  you  plainly  that  lie  in 
terests  me  more  than  any  other  man  here.  I  have 
watched  him  closely,  and  lie  is  doing  just  what  he 
ought,  and  I  encourage  him,  whenever  I  see  him,  to 
keep  on,  and  I  wish  there  were  more  men  willing  to  try 
it  and  thus  popularize  this  way  of  doing  mission  work." 

"  It  is  useless  to  try  to  popularize  his  method,  for 
people,  excepting  Rokewood,  who  have  lived  long  in 
India  are  too  wise  to  try  it,"  answered  Carnton  ;  "  but 
perhaps  there  may  be  men  in  America  willing  to 
come  out  and  set  the  example." 

The  Bishop  looked  sharply  at  Carnton.  He  was 
inclined  to  think  there  was  an  implied  reproach  in 
his  words,  a;id  Mrs.  Clinton  laughed  a  little  con 
sciously,  but  said  nothing.  As  far  as  she  was  con 
cerned  she  was  quite  willing  to  forget  that  it  had 
been  part  of  her  husband's  idea  originally,  and,  later 
on,  her  own,  to  set  an  example  to  missionaries,  for 
anything  requiring  so  much  energy  as  an  example 
was  beyond  her;  and,  more,  she  had  said  something 
like  this  to  Mrs.  Mackenzie,  which  had  chased  away 
the  shadow  that  had  been  between  those  two  women. 

"  But  at  any  rate,"  Carnton  went  on,  seeing  he  had 
no  answer,  "  I  had  to  decide  for  myself,  as  everyone 
does,  how  I  could  best  economize  my  strength,  and 
how  I  could  do  the  most  for  the  mission,  and  I  found 
I  must  sacrifice  any  romantic  ideas  I  had." 

"  But  how  does  Rokewood  exasperate  you  ( "  per 
sisted  Mrs.  Clinton. 


KOKEWOOD'S  ILLNESS.  313 

"Just  because  lie  takes  the  luxury  of  carrying  out 
his  early  romantic  ideas,  even  when  they  are  not 
worth  while.  "When  he  had  charge  of  the  Leper 
Asylum  in  Pithoragarh  he  lived  among  the  lepers, 
when  others  thought  he  could  do  them  us  much  or 
more  good  had  he  lived  up  on  the  hill  a  little  way 
from  them ;  but  he  thought  not,  and  there  was  grandeur 
in  this  sacrifice  because  of  its  magnitude.  To-day  he 
is  taking  as  great  a  risk,  working  all  day  in  the  sun 
without  food,  as  he  did  when  he  carried  out  the  dead 
Christian  lepers  in  his  arms  and  buried  them  with  his 
own  hands;  as  great  a  risk,  but  with  this  difference: 
then  it  was  necessary,  for  even  among  those  lepers 
caste  still  binds  all,  and  there  was  need  ;  but  to-day 
there  was  no  need.  It  is  madness  to  go  about  the 
bazar  without  food,  for  cholera  is  waiting  for  any 
good  subject." 

"  Is  he  the  only  one  in  danger '.  "  asked  Mrs.  Clin 
ton,  quietly. 

'' Xo,  and  hence  all  the  more  need  of  great  care. 
Xot  fear,  but  a  steady,  sensible  care  in  keeping  the 
system  in  good  order  lessens  the  chances.  Xo  one 
who  is  wrise  can  wish  one  to  take  unnecessary  risks  ; 
there  are  enough  unavoidable  ones  to  satisfy  the  most 
eager  for  accounts  of  missionary  suffering." 

At  six  that  evening  Rokewood  drove  into  the  com 
pound  just  as  Mackenzie  was  starting  for  the  regular 
meeting  of  the  Epworth  League,  and,  much  to  Mac 
kenzie's  relief,  looked  well  as  usual  and  far  more 
elated  than  he  had  seen  him  before. 

"  I  have  sold  double  the  number  of  books  to-daj7 
that  I  hoped — Bibles  to  Hindoos,  stories  of  the  Gos 
pel  to  Mohammedans,  and  any  number  of  medical 


31-4  THK  BISHOP' 

hooks    and   of    Miirdock's  moral  publications.      I've 
had  a  capital  day,  though  I  am  tired  out.'' 

"  You  can  thank  me,  for  it  is  no  doubt  part  due  to 
the  fact  that  you  took  my  advice  and  did  no  walking, 
but  saved  your  time  and  strength  for  your  sales. 
Come  on  with  me,  if  you  are  not  too  tired,  to  the  Ep 
worth  League;"  and,  paying  his  gari  "\vnla,  they  were 
soon  going  over  the  road,  which  was  being  watered 
by  water-carriers,  as  the  break  in  the  rain  had  made 
it  necessary. 

The  Epworth  League  was  quite  in  the  hands  of 
the  young  men  and  women  of  the  native  Church. 
Carnton  seemed  to  have  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it,  but 
kept  in  the  background  and  only  appeared  when 
necessary.  It  was  his  plan  to  let  them  learn  to  do  all 
this  alone.  Mrs.  Clinton,  sitting  quietly  by  the  door, 
had  a  feeling  of  indescribable  interest  tempered  wirh 
a  humorous  sensation  that  made  it  impossible  not  to 
laugh  now  and  then  as  the  familiar  words,  "Epworth 
League,"  "Committee  Meeting,"  "Report,"  and  a 
few  others  came  out  of  the  mass  of  unknown  words 
as  they  read,  talked,  and  discussed  with  the  same 
eager  interest  found  where  the  original  society  flour 
ishes.  She  tried  to  think  of  what  would  be  the  ef 
fect  on  her  Sunday  school  class  of  young  ladies  in 
America  were  they  taken  up  bodily  and  suddenly 
put  down  in  the  midst  of  these  olive-faced  girls, 
draped  in  their  white  chuddars,  and  the  dark-eyed 
young  men  in  white.  She  amused  herself  with  pic 
turing  the  efforts  of  the  young  ladies  to  find  out  where 
they  were,  and  to  make  themselves  understood ;  but  of 
one  thing  she  was  sure — they  would  be  perfectly 
certain  thev  were  in  a  branch  of  their  own  society. 


ROKEWOOD'S  ILLNESS.  315 

Rokewood  was  interested  in  it  all  and  spoko  strong 
words  of  encouragement,  but  he  looked  so  pale  and 
tired  that  Mackenzie  took  him  away  before  the  close, 
under  the  conviction  that  he  had  probably  had  no 
dinner  even  if  he  had  had  breakfast. 

As  they  got  into  the  gari  Mackenzie  said : 

"  We  will  go  home  to  dinner.  I  thought  from 
your  appearance  it  would  be  better  than  staying 
longer/' 

''  It  is  not  really  necessary  on  my  account,"  said 
Rokewood,  a  little  stiffly.  "  I  do  not  wash  to  put  you 
to  unnecessary  trouble,  and,  in  fact,  I  would  have 
stayed  at  the  surai  had  I  had  my  valise  with  me." 

Mackenzie  winced ;  he  knew  his  words  of  the 
morning  were  not  forgotten. 

".Now,  Rokewood,  I  call  that  very  unfair  of  you, 
for  in  your  heart  you  know  I  want  you  here,  for  my 
own  sake  as  well  as  for  yours.  My  wife  is  so  much 
more  contented  in  the  hills  when  I  have  some  one 
with  me  that  it  pays  to  invite  people  to  come.  But 
now  own  up,  Rokewood,  did  you  not  have  a  luxurious 
breakfast  ? " 

Rokewood  laughed  as  he  answered  : 

"  I  had  the  same  as  the  people  for  whom  I  am  la 
boring  had,  puris  and  parched  grain/' 

"  And  for  tiffin  ?  " 

"More  puris  and  grain." 

Mackenzie  gave  his  pony  a  cut  with  the  whip,  but 
-aid  nothing. 

"  You  see,"  added  Rokewood,  apologetically,  '•  I  got 
so  interested  in  my  sales  that  I  forgot  all  about  break 
fast  until  it  was  too  lute  to  come  back  to  you.  Be 
sides,  as  I  wish  to  go  on  to  Allahabad  to-night,  I  felt 


316  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

I  must  not  leave  anything  undone  that  I  could  do.  I 
shall  not  have  a  chance  to  sell  Bibles  to  these  men  in 
Lucknow  again  for  along  time." 

""Well,"  said  Mackenzie,  in  despair,  "I  give  it  np. 
If  you,  knowing  all  you  are  risking,  are  willing  to  go 
the  whole  day  with  puris,  which  are  about  as  whole 
some  as  shoe-leather,  and  grain,  which  in  connection 
with  puris  is  as  nourishing  as  gravel-stones,  it  is  use 
less  to  try  to  teach  you  wisdom.  You  must  do  your 
own  work  in  your  own  way,  and  may  God  care  for 
you,  for  you  will  not  care  for  yourself !  " 

"  God  does  and  will  care  for  me ;  my  part  is  only 
to  obey  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mackenzie  ;  "  we  each  have  only  to  do 
that,  but  I  cannot  think  you  have  obeyed  him  to-day/' 

Then  they  talked  of  the  different  messages  that 
come  to  different  men,  and  each  acknowledged  that 
God's  call  to  his  servants  must  be  different  according 
to  different  natures  and  the  varied  forms  of  the  work 
he  required  done  in  the  world. 

About  ten  Rokewood  went  off  in  Mackenzie's  gari 
to  the  station,  intending  to  sleep  there  in  the  waiting 
room  and  take  the  three  o'clock  train  for  Allahabad, 
and  Mackenzie  M-ent  to  bed.  About  three  o'clock 
Mackenzie  was  roused  from  the  heavy,  suffocating 
slumber  that  comes  only  at  its  worst  in  the  rains  when 
the  punkah  is  stopped  for  a  few  moments  and  the 
blood  settles  in  the  brain  and  around  the  spinal  cord 
with  the  effect  of  wishing  to  burst  the  veins  and  force 
itself  to  the  surface.  Gasping  and  struggling  for 
breath  he  called  out  to  the  punkah  cooly  to  know  the 
reason  of  the  stopping  of  his  work. 

"  Preserver  of  the  poor,  a  gari  has  come." 


ROSEWOOD'S  ILLM-:**.  317 

"Who  is  in  it?" 

"  The  Padri  Sahib,  and  he  sends  his  salaams  to  you, 
and  he  is  very  ill." 

Jumping  up  and  catching  up  the  ever-burning  lan 
tern  quickly,  he  cried  impatiently  as  he  ran  out  in 
his  flannel  sleeping  suit : 

"  Why  did  you  not  say  so  at  once?  These  fellows 
would  take  just  as  much  time  to  tell  one  the  news  if 
the  world  were  exploding!  Come -in  quickly  if  you 
are  ill,  though  I  cannot  see  who  you  are." 

"  It  is  I — Rokewood,"  said  a  faint  voice,  "  and  I 
have  cholera,  just  as  you  feared.  Call  the  bearer  and 
let  him  help  me  out." 

A  chill  of  horror  kept  Mackenzie  still  for  a  sec 
ond  ;  only  a  second,  yet  he  had  time  to  be  thankful 
that  his  wife  and  Katie  were  safe  in  the  mountains, 
and  then  he  said  : 

"I  can  lift  you;  here,  gariwan,  help  me;  we  are 
good  for  two  of  your  size;"  and  a  few  minutes  after 
the  sick  man  was  in  Mackenzie's  own  bed,  the  gariwan 
was  driving  swiftly  away  for  the  doctor,  and  Macken 
zie  was  applying  the"ever-ready  cholera  remedies. 

As  the  pain  eased,  Rokewood  spoke  freely. 

"  How  long  had  you  been  ill  ?  You  surely  did  not 
come  as  soon  as  you  were  ill  ? "  asked  Mackenzie, 
sorely  distressed,  and  with  the  peculiar  pain  of  having 
his  worst  fears  confirmed — a  sort  of  responsibility 
coming  from  foreknowledge. 

"No;  I  waited,  thinking  I  would  be  better;  I  did 
not  think  it  serious ;  when  I  saw  I  was  getting  worse 
I  came  ;  I  knew  you  would  take  care  of  me." 

"  Of  course,  but  if  you  only  had  come  at  the  first, 
the  very  first  moment  you  felt  ill ! " 


318  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"Yes,  yes;  but  it's  all  right;  I'll  pull  through  this 
time;  I  am  already  better;  the  pain  is  less." 

Mackenzie  made  no  reply  ;  he  did  not  need  to  see 
the  set  face  of  the  doctor  who  soon  came  to  tell  him 
that  there  was  grave  doubt  as  to  the  possibility  of 
the  patient  pulling  through. 

The  morning  broke  with  a  whirl  of  dust  and  leaves 
and  writhing  of  trees  and  long  flashes  of  lightning 
from  all  sides,  cutting  sharply  the  thick,  heavy  clouds, 
and  still  the  two  men — the  doctor  and  Mackenzie — • 
worked  steadily  until  they  were  joined  by  Carnton, 
who  had  listened  to  the  messenger  Mackenzie  had 
sent  to  tell  them  of  Rokewood's  illness  and  of  the 
doctor's  order  that  no  one  was  to  come,  and  drove 
over  as  quickly  as  though  the  doctor's  order  had  been 
to  come  at  once. 

"I  am  come  to  help,"  he  said,  simply,  in  answer  to 
the  doctor's  scowl. 

Mackenzie  was  glad,  for  he  himself  was  already  be 
ginning  to  show  some  of  the  symptoms  of  choleni, 
and  felt  strangely  weak  and  exhausted,  and  was  glad 
of  a  little  respite  and  a  chance  to  get  some  food  and 
rest. 

The  messenger,  after  telling  Carnton  and  seeing 
Avith  pleasure  that  he  disobeyed  the  doctor's  order, 
went  on  to  the  Clintons,  who  had  come  out  on  to  the 
veranda  to  watch  the  storm,  which  was  traveling 

7  O 

rapidly,  leaving   broken    branches   and  even   broken 
trees  in  its  wake. 

"The  Padri  Mackenzie  Sahib  sends  salaam  and  an 
order  that  no  one  coming  to  hees  house,"  said  the  man, 
enjoying  the  importance  of  his  message  and  the  chance 
to  speak  English. 


ROKEWOOD'S  ILLNESS.  319 

"What!"  said  Mrs.  Clinton,  not  understanding. 

"Padri  Saliib  got  collar,  and  Doctor  Sahib  say  not 
coining  to  hees  house." 

The  Bishop  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Mackenzie  Sahib?" 

"No,  mither  sahib — the  strange  sahib  who  walks 
and  sells  books.  And,  your  honor,  Doctor  Sahib  says 
no  one  coming  to  house,"  the  man  added,  as  he  saw 
the  Bishop  take  his  hat  and  stick. 

"It  does  not  matter" — in  answer  to  the  man — "the 
doctor  cannot  keep  me  from  going.  Of  course  we 
cannot  leave  Mackenzie  alone  in  this  calamity  and 
danger.  I  shall  take  every  care  of  myself,"  as  he  saw 
the  white  set  look  on  his  wife's  face;  "  but, you  see,  I 
must  go.v 

"  yes,"  she  said,  with  difficulty,  "you  must  go,  but 
ho\v  can  I  have  you  -go?  O,  how  glad  1  am  that 
Lillian  is  not  here! "  and  she  ended  with  a  dry  sob. 

The  man  stood  silent,  quickly  understanding  the 
Bishop's  intention  and  waiting  for  a  chance  for  more 
words. 

"  The  Doctor  Sahib  very  zabberdust  man,  he  let  no 
one  come.  Carnton  Sahib  also  zabberdust,  and  he 
gone  running.  lie  not  'f raid  to  the  doctor  ; "  and  the 
man  grinned  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  one  man  not 
fearing  the  doctor. 

Mrs.  Clinton  looked  relieved. 

"Wait,  then;  Mr.  Carnton  has  gone;  that  is  suf- 
iicient  help  now,  and  the  chances  are  that  the  doctor 
may  let  one  stay  where  he  would  order  two  off;  and 
surely  these  who  have  lived  here  must  know  better 
what  to  do  in  such  cases,"  she  pleaded,  weakly,  feeling 
that  it  was  ignoble  to  be  glad  that  Carnton  had  gone. 


320  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

but  unablo  to  control  the  feeling.  The  Bishop  looked 
undecided ;  the  man,  who  was  a  chaprassi  and  proud 
of  his  English,  suggested  : 

"  Doctor  Sahib  very  smart,'  very  like  obeying ;  he 
tell  it,  '  All  come  all  get  sick,'  and  then  it  make 
pretty-kettle-of-fish." 

Even  now,  as  ever,  Mrs.  Clinton  felt  inclined  to 
laugh  at  the  man's  English,  though  it  was  a  sort  of 
hysterical  wish. 

The  Bishop  took  two  rapid  strides  across  the  ve 
randa. 

"  I  will  at  least  write  a  note  to  Mackenzie  and  ask  if 
I  can  be  of  any  service;"  and  he  went  to  his  desk  and 
came  back  quickly  with  a  note  telling  the  man  to 
hurry  and  return  with  an  answer. 

They  sat  silent,  waiting,  and  now  the  storm  seemed 
also  waiting,  but  there  was  a  freshness  in  the  air  that 
told  of  rain  somewhere — that  in  some  more  favored 
place  the  parched  ground  was  soaked  and  the  thirsty 
leaves  of  the  trees  washed  clean — and  a  little  of  that 
freshness  had  extended  to  the  weary  people  at  Luck- 
now. 

The  man  came  back  saying  that  the  doctor  would 
permit  no  one  else  to  come,  and  that  the  sahib  was 
no  better. 

"  Will  he  die  ? "  asked  the  Bishop. 

"God  knows,"  said  the  man,  indifferently. 

"  We  can  at  least  pray  for  him,"  said  the  Bishop, 
and  they  knelt  and  he  prayed  for  this  soul  which  was 
battling  for  life;  prayed  earnestly  that  God  would  i:i 
his  wisdom  permit  the  restoration  of  life;  but  his 
words  seemed  to  fall  back,  and  would  not  ascend  on 
the  wings  of  faith.  There  was  a  heaviness  that  he 


KOKEWOOP'S  ILLNESS.  321 

eould  not  account  for  in  his  petitions,  though  he  con 
tinued  long  on  his  knees.  Somehow  he  could  only 
think  of  the  many  times  he  had  encouraged  Roke- 
wood  to  continue  in  an  experiment  that  others  of  long 
years  in  India  believed  to  be  fatal ;  of  the  fact  that  even 
while  he  had  encouraged  this  poor  young  man  in  his 
theories  he  had  thought  them  too  full  of  risk  for 
himself.  True,  Rokewood  had  no  wife  or  children, 
yet  it  struck  him  all  at  once  as  a  cowardly  thing  to 
urge  another  on  in  a  course  which  he  himself  could 
not  conscientiously  take. 

He  had  rather  unconsciously  felt  that  he  was  solv 
ing  the  problem  by  proxy  ;  that  he  could  report  on 
Rokewood's  experiment  as  well  or  perhaps  better 
than  though  he  went  through  it  personally ;  for  Roke 
wood  knew  the  country  and  the  ways  and  language  of 
the  native  people  and  how  to  live  cheaply,  as  he  could 
bargain  for  things,  and  also  knew  how  to  protect  him 
self ;  yet  now  it  seemed  another  thing. 

"  But  why,"  he  asked  himself  in  bitter  self-reproach, 
'•  why  does  it  appear  so  different  now,  now  when  it 
is  too  late,  when  poor  Rokewood  is  dying?  It  is  not 
at  all  certain  that  he  might  not  have  taken  cholera 
had  he  been  careful  and  wise  ;  others  have  taken  it, 
and  why  should  I  feel  to  blame  in  the  matter?" 

But  there  was  no  answer,  and  the  controversy  with 
himself  went  on  till  another  thought  even  more  terrible 
came.  He  took  his  wife's  hand  in  his  and  looked  in 
her  face.  One  thought  was  in  both  minds.  Cholera 

O 

was  coming  too  near  to  be  disregarded.  At  sunset  one 
or  both  of  them  might  be  gone,  aye,  even  underground, 
for  ceremony  does  not  follow  in  the  path  of  cholera, 
and  then  what  of  Lillian  and  the  boys? 


322  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

In  other  mission  houses  there  was  silence  and  wait 
ing  and  prayer.  For  once  the  work  stood  still  and 
also  waited.  It  could  not  be  long,  for  this  dread 
visitor  treads  with  no  lagging  footsteps,  and  while  a 
life  was  passing  who  could  do  aught  but  wait  in  solemn 
silence  ?  For  it  was  all  too  true.  Poor  Rokewood's 
life  was  going  out  swiftly.  Young,  just  beginning  to 
work  for  God,  eager  and  bold  and  ready  for  the 
hardest  fight,  the  thickest  of  the  fray,  happiest  when 
he  had  something  difficult  to  do  for  the  great  Master 
whom  he  loved,  and  yet,  before  the  morning  had 
passed,  before  the  dew  was  off  the  grass,  before  the 
freshness  was  gone  from  the  trees,  before  the  mists 
had  fled,  he  was  going,  and  hundreds  in  Lucknow, 
men  who  had  only  lived  for  self,  for  what  the  day 
might  bring,  were  alive  and  going  out  for  the  day's 
work  or  pleasure,  as  the  case  might  be. 

It  was  hard;  the  Bishop  must  again  settle  himself 
to  the  idea  that  since  God  permitted  it  his  servants 
must  bow  in  acquiescence. 

"Rokewood,"  said  Mackenzie,  as  the  dying  man 
seemed  easier  and  brighter,  "you  are  very  ill." 

He  turned  his  eyes  quickly. 

"  Am  I  in  danger  ?     Will  I  not  recover? " 

"  The  doctor  said  it  is  always  safe  to  make  our  final 
arrangements  in  case  of — " 

"  But  what  did  he  say  ?  Will  I  get  well  or  not  ?  " 
interrupted  Rokewood,  quietly. 

"  My  dear  Rokewood,  we  fear  you  may  not  recover, 
but  we  know  you  are  in  God's  hands  and  not  in  ours. 
He  know?,  we  do  not;  but  we  know  you  are  ready 
either  to  live  or  die,  as  he  wills." 

"Yes,  yes;  but  it  is  strange.     I   did  not  think  I 


ROKEWOOD'S  ILLNKSS.  323 

would  die  until  I  was  old  ;  I  am  young,  and  I  have 
done  so  little,  so  little.  Do  you  think,  Mackenzie  " 
—  with  increasing  feebleness — ''  He  will  count  what  I 
was  ready  to  do — what  I  wanted  to  do  for  him?'' 

"  Yes,  yes,  dear  Rokewood,"  in  a  voice  he  strove  to 
make  steady.  "  Why  not?  It  is  our  wills  he  wants, 
and  surely  you  have  given  him  yours." 

"Our  wills  are  thine,"  he  murmured.  k' Yes ;  I 
gave  my  will  up  to  him  years  ago,  when  I  was  on  the 
farm,  before  1  went  to  college  ;  and  mother,  she  was 
proud  of  her  missionary  son,  prouder  of  him  than  of 
the  others,  with  all  their  money ; "  and  he  rested, 
dreaming  a  little. 

Mackenzie,  after  giving  him  medicine,  again  called 
his  attention  to  any  message  or  arrangements. 

With  an  effort  he  brought  his  mind  back  from  old 
days  on  the  quiet  farm. 

'•  Tell  mother  and  father  that  I  had  rather  live  as 
T  have  lived  and  die  as  I  have  died  than  to  have  been 
a  king;  it  is  glorious!  What  terror  has  death  for 
me?  None.  It  is  only  to  be  dying  a  moment  and 
then  eternity  with  Him  who  died  for  me."  And  a 
long  pause. 

u  Rokewood,  dear  friend,  I  spoke  sharply  to  you 
this  morning;  forgive  me;  I  did  it  because  I  loved 
you  and  wanted  to  save  you  from  this —  '  he  caught 
himself  ;  that  was  not  just  what  he  meant  to  say. 

"  Christ  saved  me,"  Rokewood  said  feebly.  "  For 
give?  It  was  nothing,  and  you  have  stood  by  me 
nobly.  You  will  find  my  mother's  last  letter  with  the 
address  in  my  trunk,  and  all  the  accounts  of  the  Leper 
Asylum  and  the  subscriptions ;  they  are  all  there  ; 
and — you  will  write." 


324  THE  IJISHOP'S  CONVKRSIOX. 

Then  gently  as  a  child  goes  to  sleep  in  its  mother's 
arms  his  life  went  out,  leaving  the  body  straight  and 
stiff  and  cold. 

At  sunset  a  lonely  little  procession  passed  ont  to 
the  cemetery  beside  the  river,  and  the  body  was 
placed  in  the  unconsecrated  ground  outside,  among 
the  unbaptized,  among  all  who  are  not  of  the  Church 
sanctioned  by  the  government. 

Mackenzie,  white  and  weak,  looked  as  though  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  he  remained  standing  through  the 
burial  service.  They  had  asked  him  not  to  come,  but 
he  had  urged  he  would  be  better  for  going,  and  noth 
ing  more  was  said.  Each  one  mourned  genuinely  for 
the  great  soul  that  had  departed  ;  not  mourned  for  him 
personally — for  him  to  die  was  infinite  gain — but 
mourned  that  his  familiar  form  would  go  no  more  out 
and  in  among  them  ;  mourned  that  the  number  seek 
ing  to  plant  the  standard  of  the  Cross  was  lessened 
by  one;  mourned  that  one  so  earnest,  so  true  should 
miss  opportunity  to  stamp  his  character  on  hundreds 
of  others ;  mourned  for  those  weak  ones  who  might 
ever  go  unhelped  by  him. 

"Was  his  life  wasted?  Who  shall  say?  The  dis 
ciples  objected  to  the  breaking  of  the  box  of  costly 
parfume.  It  might  have  been  used,  they  said,  to  bet 
ter  advantage;  but  even  though  broken  it  has  been 
passed  down  from  century  to  century,  shedding  its 
fragrance  all  the  way.  So  let  us  hope  his  life  may 
ever  be  a  memorial  to  be  passed  on  down  from  father 
to  son,  for  generation  after  generation. 

In  little  homes  in  the  mountains,  away  from  the 
stir  of  the  world,  where  the  white  topi  of  the  sahib 
rarelv  comes,  when  the  night-fire  blazes  before  the 


ROKBWOOD'S  ILLNKS>.  325 

hut,  casting  weird  shadows  in  which  lurk  the  jackal 
and  leopard,  the  father  may  tell  of  a  tall  sahib  who 
loved  work  and  who  loved  the  natives  so  that  if  any 
were  tired  he  would  do  their  work,  and  who  said  it 
was  better  to  work  than  to  have  lacs  of  rupees ;  who 
said  that  the  Greatest  who  had  ever  lived  had  been  a 
inistri  and  held  the  hammer  and  chisel,  and  that  this 
same  Greatest  would  save  them  from  transmigration 
if  they  only  believed  on  him.  And  again  on  holi 
days,  when  the  women  have  on  their  brightest  jackets 
and  chuddars,  one  will  tell  how  on  the  mall  which 
goes  around  the  little  lake  away  up  in  the  mountain 
among  the  clouds,  when  aU  the  great  people  wore 
walking  and  riding  and  chatting,  this  same  strange 
sahib  had  taken  her  son  from  her  arms  and  carried 
him,  because  she  was  weak  and  tired  and  the  boy  was 
large,  and  all  the  sahib  people  looked  at  him  and 
laughed  and  thought  he  was  mad  to  carry  a  black 
baby  among  them.  And  other  cooly  women  will  tell 
of  his  helping  them  carry  a  piano  down  the  mall,  and 
how  again  all  the  people  laughed  and  thought  him 
mad,  and  that  he  came  to  be  known  among  them  as 
the  mad  sahib,  who  believed  there  could  be  work  too 
hard  for  low  caste  women. 

And  they  will  then  tell  that  he  always  told  them  it 
was  because  the  God  he  worshiped  and  the  Incarna 
tion  in  which  he  believed  told  him  to  do  these  things; 
and  because  his  God  loved  everyone,  even  under-caste 
women,  who  are  nothing,  as  the  whole  world  knows, 
he  also  must  love  all  and  help  all  ;  and  when  in  trou 
ble  and  sorrow,  when  the  rains  fail  and  the  harvest  is 
not,  and  there  is  nothing  to  eat,  or  when  the  son  dies 
and  the  house  is  desolate,  then  may  they  not  leave  the 


320  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION, 

wooden  images  that  cannot  help  them,  and,  imperfect 
and  feeble  as  the  prayer  may  be,  shall  lie  \vlio  heeds 
the  young  ravens — shall  lie  not,  even  for  this  man's 
sake,  who  died  for  them — shall  he  not  hear  and  an 
swer  ? 


('. \U.\TOX     AM) 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

C  A  R  X  T  0  X      A  X  D     S  I  D  X  E  Y. 

¥HEX?  after  leaving  the  grave,  the  Bishop  and 
his  wife  and  Carnton  were  getting  into  their 
gari  at  the  entrance  of  the  cemetery,  on  their  way 
home,  they  saw  Sidney  just  about  to  drive  off  alone. 
Mrs.  Clinton  stopped  her  with  a  wave  of  her  hand 
and  went  to  her.  The  girl's  white  face  made  her 
heart  ache,  and  as  she  held  her  hand  a  sudden  thought 
came  to  her,  and  she  said  imperatively, 
"  Come  with  us  ;  we  will  take  you  home." 
Ordinarily  Sidney's  pride  would  have  kept  her 
from  going  where  she  would  be  brought  into  contact 
with  Carnton,  but  she  knew  he  had  been  helping  to 
nurse  Rokewood,  and  in  the  face  of  the  fear  that  she 
might  never  see  him  again,  that  to-morrow  at  sunset 
they  might  again  be  in  this  cemetery  to  put  under 
the  white  sand  all  that  could  make  life  dear  to  her, 
and  all  that  was  making  it  heavy  for  her,  she  could 
not  keep  up  her  pride.  Her  fear  caused  her  to  yield 
at  once,  and  without  the  slightest  hesitation  she  said, 
fim  ply,  "Yes,  I  will  come."  And  she  got  out  of  her 
gari  and  came  across.  While  the  Bishop  helped  them 
in  Carnton  looked  at  her.  Her  face,  with  all  the  pretty 
color  gone  and  drawn  with  fear,  seemed  to  be  the  face 
of  another,  and  not  that  of  the  woman  he  loved.  His 
heart  throbbed  fiercely  at  the  thought  that  possibly  it 


328  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

was  because  he  liad  been  in  peril  that  she  had  that 
stricken  look. 

Their  eyes  met,  hers  scanning  his  face  anxiously  to  see 
if  there  were  any  signs  of  coining  illness  ;  his  with  love 
and  longing  plainly  speaking — plainly  to  Mrs.  Clin 
ton,  but  not  to  Sidney,  who  had  forgotten  herself  in 
her  anxiety  for  him.  There  was  little  said;  some 
quiet  remark  from  the  Bishop  on  the  beauty  of  the 
sunset  showing  brokenly  through  the  trees,  and  soon 
they  were  on  the  bridge  that  spans  the  Gumti.  The 
Bishop,  with  an  exclamation  of  wonder,  stopped  the 
horse.  The  river — flat,  sluggish,  bounded  on  either 
side  by  wide  stretches  of  level  land,  grass-covered,  pool- 
bestudded — was  full  of  reflected  glory.  The  sky  up  to 
the  zenith  M'as  spread  with  large  lapis  lazuli  blue, 
gold-lined,  and  bronze  clouds,  all  gold-rimmed  ;  and  in 
these  masses  of  glory  were  little  breaks  through  which 
showed  the  sky  a  sea-green,  pale  and  clear.  At  the 
horizon,  where  the  river  disappeared  in  dim  perspec 
tive,  purple,  soft,  but  strong  against  the  gold,  were 
the  domes  and  turrets  of  the  Chutter  Munzil  palaces ; 
reflected  perfectly  in  the  water  below  was  the  same 
— the  domes  and  turrets  on  a  background  of  gold,  the 
blue  and  bronze  and  gold  of  the  sky, showing  through 
the  whole  long  sweep  of  the  river  from  bridge  to 
palace.  At  the  sides,  too,  the  pools  had  caught  a 
golden  glow  and  gleamed  like  mammoth  topazes  in 
the  setting  of  bright  emerald  green  grass.  It  had 
been  a  dreary  day,  for  the  morning  storm  had,  after 
passing,  returned  and  left  the  blessed  rain,  which 
seemed  to  leave  both  blessings  and  beauty  behind  it. 

The  deep  voice  of  the  Bishop  reverently  said,  as 
though  he  were  reading  the  psalm  in  a  choired  cathe- 


CARNTON  AND  SIDNEY.  329 

dral :  ''The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  (rod;  and 
the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork.  Day  unto 
day  ntteretli  speech,  and  night  unto  night  showeth 
knowledge/1 

Then  as  they  drove  on  they  talked  of  the  life  that 
had  just  gone  out,  of  his  work,  of  the  possibility  of 
his  life  having  been  saved  had  he  taken  proper  food 
the  day  before,  of  the  results  of  the  work,  and  of 
Rokewood's  parents,  who  had  been  so  proud  of  their 
missionary  boy. 

"  As  far  as  men  can  see,"  said  Carnton,  finally,  "lie 
might  have  been  alive  had  he  taken  proper  care  of 
himself,  for  in  every  case  in  this  particular  epidemic 
of  cholera  which  has  proved  fatal  there  has  been  some 
irregularity  of  diet  or  exposure  to  wet  and  chill  with 
out  proper  after-precautions,  so  the  doctor  told  me. 
But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  God  permitted 
it,  and  I  had  rather  at  this  moment  be  in  Kokewood's 
place  than  save  my  health  at  the  expense  of  my  work. 
A\Te  are  here  to  care  for  ourselves  in  just  so  far  as  will 
further  our  work,  and  no  further.  We  must  be  ready 
for  whichever  helps  our  work,  whether  life  or  death, 
and  I,  for  one,  am  willing  it  should  be  either." 

His  face  glowed  as  he  said  this,  and  the  Bishop 
grasped  his  hand. 

"My  dear  Carnton,  I  believe  you,  and  I  believe  you 
are  not  alone.  Every  man  I  have  met,  excepting  one 
or  two  I  know,  works  on  that  principle.  It  is  clear  to 
me  now  to-day  as  it  has  not  been  before.  It  is  for  God 
and  his  work,  and  individuals  must  have  liberty  to  live 
this  out  as  best  they  can.  Rokewood  had  his  way. 

;' '  As  man  may,  he  fought  his  fight. 
I'ruvd  his  truth  by  his  endeavor,"  " 


330  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

he  added,  quoting  from  some  old  war  poem  he  remem 
bered  imperfectly.  Not  since  he  left  the  old  com 
pany  of  which  he  had  been  chaplain  had  he  thought 
so  much  of  battle  and  warlike  valor  and  fields  of  glory 
and  being  buried  with  honor  on  the  field  of  battle  as 
he  had  since  coming  to  India.  There  was  the  same 
valor,  the  same  esprit  de  corps,  the  same  grim  determi 
nation  to  conquer  or  die,  or  willingness  to  conquer  and 
die ;  and  he  had  to  confess,  in  face  of  all  the  difficul 
ties,  it  certainly  was  as  necessary  as  in  those  days  of 
bloodshed,  if  victory  was  to  be  with  them. 

"  Will  you  not  go  up  with  us,  Sidney  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Clinton. 

"No!"  said  Carnton,  authoritatively,  "she  must 
not  go.  With  so  much  infection  abroad  she  is  better 
at  home.  Who  knows  where  it  will  fasten  next?" 
he  added,  in  explanation  of  the  surprised  looks  turned 
on  him. 

As  they  came  up  in  front  of  the  old  palace  he 
quickly  helped  her  out  and  took  both  hands,  and,  with 
his  eyes  telling  her  at  once  of  his  love  and  devotion, 
he  said  good-bye  softly,  but  tenderly  and  sadly. 

And  then  Sidney  was  alone  and  must  wait.  She 
went  up  and  sat  on  the  roof  in  the  dark,  and  held 
communion  with  herself.  It  was  the  first  time  she 
had  wanted  to  be  alone  since  the  news  had  come  at 
noon  that  Ivokewood  had  died  and  Carnton  had  helped 
Mackenzie  nurse  him.  Xow  she  sat  and  thought  of 
that  hand-clasp  and  the  look  from  his  eyes.  She 
sat  &nd  hugged  the  thought  of  these  to  her,  and  almost 

OO  O  •  / 

cried  for  pity  of  herself. 

"  It  is  a  beggarly  dole  I  shall  have  to  keep  with  me 
and  live  on  during  the  remainder  of  mv  life  if  he 


CARNTON  AND  SIDNEY.  331 

goes.  And  I  know  lie  will  go,  lor  life  seems  to  be 
arranged  that  way — that  what  one  most  longs  for  is 
snatched  at  the  moment  it  is  dearest.  Perhaps  even 
the  dear  memory  of  that  look  may  1'ail  me.  I  may 
forget  the  love  that  was  in  his  eyes  for  an  instant.  I 
may  forget  how  it  seems  to  have  one's  hands  clasped 
in  love  as  though  they  would  never  be  surrendered. 
I  shall  go  on  in  my  work  ;  thank  God,  there  is  work 
that  I  love,  and  he  will  give  me  peace  after  a  while. 
The  pain  must  lessen — must,  or  I  cannot  live." 

The  house  was  quiet  at  last,  and  still  she  sat  and 
thought.  At  midnight  she  said  : 

"  He  may  now  be  ill ;  he  may  even  be  beyond  help  ;  " 
and  as  these  thoughts  came  she  would  rise  and  walk 
up  and  down  softly  and  quietly,  for  she  wanted  no  one 
to  know  the  vigil  she  was  keeping. 

"  If  I  were  his  sister,  and  though  I  cared  little  for 
him,  I  might  be  in  the  house  and  watching  for  the 
first  symptom  of  illness,  but  I,  who  only  love  him 
better  than  myself — I,  who  would  give  the  whole  world 
to  be  near  him,  to  know  how  he  is — must  not  even  ask. 
I  must  wait.  How  hard  life  is  for  us  women  !  how 
hard!1' 

Was  it  strange  that  her  fears  never  once  reached 
the  other  man,  Mr.  Mackenzie,  who  was  in  equal 
danger?  And  was  it  strange  that  Mrs. "Mackenzie, 
when  the  news  came  to  her,  was  torn  with  fear  and 
anxiety  for  her  husband,  but  did  not  give  Oarnton's 
danger  one  thought? 

Then  Sidney  would  sit  quietly  in  a  half-stupor  for 
an  hour,  and  then  again  walk  the  floor.  Finally,  ex 
hausted,  she  went  into  the  house  and  threw  herself  on 
her  bed  and  fell  into  a  heavy  slumber,  from  which  she 


332  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

was  awakened  at  a  late  hour  in  the  morning  by  a 
voice  outside  the  door  : 

"  A  letter  has  come,  Miss  Sahib." 

"  Where  from  ? "  she  asked,  her  heart  standing  still 
at  the  answer  :  » 

"Clinton  Mem  Sahib." 

She  could  only  rush  to  the  door  and  put  out  a  shak 
ing  hand  to  take  it,  fearing  news  of  the  worst  kind. 

But  it  was  only  a  note  from  Mrs.  Clinton  saying 
something  of  the  station  meeting — what,  she  could  not 
understand.  She  was  returning  a  book  that  Sidney 
had  lent  her,  and  was  thankful  to  say  that  they  were 
all  well. 

Sidney  blessed  her  in  her  heart  for  her  kind 
ness.  She  knew  well  the  station  meeting  and  the 
book  w^ere  only  an  excuse  to  let  her  know  that  Cam- 
ton  had  not  suffered  for  his  generous  help  to  Roke- 
wood.  "  It  was  sweet  of  her  to  do  this,"  she  said. 
"Had  she  not,  I  would  have  had  to  go  there  and 
find  out  how  he  is,  but  I  am  saved  from  that  absurd 
ity,  at  least." 

The  assistants  and  Bible  women  had  gone  out  to 
work  before  Sidney  was  wakened  by  the  arrival  of  the 
letter,  and  she  went  slowly  after  them.  Her  head  was 
confused,  and  she  felt  stunned  and  numb,  as  though 
she  had  wakened  from  a  bad  dream  ;  but  when  once 
with  the  women  in  the  villages  she  forgot  her  own 
troubles,  as  she  always  did  in  the  pleasure  of  greeting 
them,  in  answering  their  questions,  and  in  teaching 
them. 

Four  days  passed  with  only  a  lingering  hand-shake 
from  Carnton  on  Sunday  at  both  morning  and  even 
ing  service  in  the  English  church  ;  then  came  two 


(\\U.\TI I.N    AND  SIDNEY.  333 

notes  one  morning  as  Sidney  was  going  to  her  work 
— one  from  Mrs.  Clinton  asking  her  to  come  over  and 
spend  the  evening,  and  another  which  she  opened 
with  trembling  fingers.  She  did  not  know  the  writ 
ing,  but  she  well  knew  who  had  written  it : 

"Mr  DEAR  Miss  MELLEN  :  Mrs.  Clinton,  at  my 
request,  has  asked  you  to  have  tea  and  spend  the  eve 
ning  here.  I  wish  particularly  to  see  you.  If  I  were 
in  America  I  would  ask  you  to  drive  with  me,  but  I 
have  realized  more  than  ever  in  the  last  few  months 
that  we  are  not  in  America  and  must  yield  to  the 
customs  and  requirements  of  the  land  we  are  in  in 
order  that  none  may  be  offended.  I  have  waited, 
hoping  chance  would  favor  me,  but  in  vain.  ^Vill 
you  come  ?  Do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  say  no,  and  please 
do  not  have  another  engagement. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  J '/ii/at  Bag.  STERXDAI.E  CARNTOX." 

A  week  ago  Sidney  might  have  had  another  en 
gagement.  She  might  have  felt  that  something  more 
was  due  to  her  than  to  acquiesce  so  easily,  letting  him 
feel  that  lie  could  advance  and  retreat  at  his  own 
pleasure.  But  that  look  of  farewell  as  he  stood  and 
held  her  hands  the  night  of  poor  Rokewood's  burial 
was  too  true,  too  tender,  too  full  of  the  pain  of  a  pos 
sible  long  farewell  for  her  to  doubt  him  now.  Even 
if,  at  first,  he  had  felt  lie  could  not  love  a  woman  who 
had  gone  through  so  much  publicity  and  made  so 
many  mistakes,  still  he  was  now  conquered  by  his 
love  whether  he  was  willing  to  be  conquered  or  not. 
All  day  she  had  a  happy  consciousness  of  the  evening 


334  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION 

to  come.  Not  that  she  dared  definitely  to  think  of 
what  he  wished  to  say  to  her  or  of  what  the  evening 
might  bring.  It  was  enough  that  she  was  to  see  him 
because  he  wanted  to  see  her.  She  had  replied  to 
Mrs.  Clinton's  note,  saying  she  would  come,  but  could 
not  bring  herself  to  reply  to  Carnton's.  An  unac 
countable  shyness  overcame  her  when  she  thought  of 

tf  O 

doing  so. 

She  never  had  found  her  work  more  interesting  or 
the  women  more  interested.  One  woman,  Piari, 
asked  her  why  her  face  was  so  glad — was  she  now, 
at  last,  going  to  have  her  marriage  arranged?  The 
native  women  can  never  understand  how  a  single  lady 
can  bear  up  under  the  disgrace  of  not  being  married, 
for  to  them  it  is  a  heart-crushing  thing,  and  denotes 
something  in  themselves  very  unworthy. 

Sidney  laughed,  though  she  was  annoyed  to  feel 
the  color  overspreading  her  face  and  to  feel  an  in 
clination  to  hang  her  head,  but  she  avoided  giving  an 
answer. 

Night  at  last  came,  and  Sidney,  in  a  plain  soft 
muslin,  without  ribbon  or  ornament,  with  the  wood- 
rose  color  blazing  in  her  cheeks  in  a  way  she  could 
execrate,  went. 

Carnton  met  her  at  the  door  and  helped  her  out  of 
the  carriage  in  a  proprietary  way  that  was  so  nearly 
a  taking  possession  that  she  could  hardly  walk  steadily 
as  she  crossed  the  room  to  greet  Mrs.  Clinton,  who 
sat  behind  a  teapot  pouring  out  tea. 

Mrs.  Clinton  chatted  away,  abouf  what,  Sidney 
could  not  tell,  and  Carnton  talked  on  to  cover  her 
silence.  He  had  been  disappointed  at  her  not  answer 
ing  his  letter  ;  but  it  was  something  that  she  was  will- 


CARNTON  AND  SIDNEY.  335 

ing  to  come  ;  that  she  had  not  utterly  refused  to  come, 
as  he  fully  realized  she  might.  Then  Mrs.  Clinton 
took  the  Bishop's  cap  of  tea  to  the  study,  and  he 
asked  her  to  excuse  him  to  Miss  Mellen,  as  he  was 
getting  up  a  lecture  on  natural  history  for  the  boys  in 
the  high  school. 

Mrs.  Clinton  smiled  quietly  to  herself  and  said  she 
would  soon  come  back  and  help  him  look  up  points 
and  leave  Mr.  Carnton  to  entertain  Sidney. 

The  Bishop  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  You  can  hardly  do  that,  can  you,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  O,  yes,  I  think  I  can;"  and,  as  he  still  looked 
doubtful,  she  added,  "  I  will  tell  you  why  when  I  re 
turn." 

She  offered  them  more  tea,  but  it  was  refused,  and 
then  she  said  : 

';  I  know  you  will  excuse  me,  as  I  wish  to  help  my 
husband  to-night.  We  often  sit  out  on  the  veranda, 
for  the  lamp  makes  the  room  so  very  hot  ;  you  will 
iind  chairs  out  there,"  and  vanished,  seeming  quite  to 
forget  to  tell  her  husband  why  it  had  suddenly  be 
come  proper  to  leave  an  invited  guest  for  Mr.  Carn 
ton  to  entertain. 

Carnton  vowed  in  his  heart  never  to  forget  her 
kindness,  and  said  : 

"  Will  you  come  ?  Let  us  walk  a  little  on  the 
veranda,  if  you  are  not  tired.  I  have  not  had  any 
exercise  to-day  '' — and  then,  as  she  rose  and  moved 
with  him  toward  the  door — "  and  I  think  I  can  say 
what  I  have  to  say  easier." 

"Really,"  said  Sidney,  quietly,  "I  had  never 
thought  you  found  any  great  difficulty  in  talking." 

''  How  unkind  !  "  said  Carnton,  "  and  how  unjust ! 


336  THE  BISHOP'-  ('. >\\ 

1  often  have  the  very  greatest  difficulty,  and  never 
more  than  when  I  talk  with  yon/' 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  yon  find  me  dull  and  difficult  of  compre 
hension,  perhaps/' 

Carnton  was  silent.  This  was  not  Sidney — this 
was  not  the  kind,  sweet  woman  who  had  scanned  his 
face  so  anxiously  the  other  day  when  she  thought 
there  was  danger  for  him. 

"  Sidney,"  he  said,  firmly,  "  I  have  much  to  sav, 
and  yet  when  I  begin  I  seem  to  have  only  one  thing 
to  say,  and  that  is,  '  I  love  you.'  It  sounds  common 
place,  but  it  means  so  much  to  me.  It  means  that  I 
loved  you  the  very  first  time  I  saw  you,  and  that  I 
have  loved  you  every  minute  since.  There  has  not 
been  a  waking  minute  when  I  have  not  been  con 
scious  of  you  raid  of  the.  possibility  that  perhaps  I  had 
at  last  met  the  one  for  whom  I  have  been  praying  all 
these  years.  There  have  been  experiences  in  my  <>\\n 
early  life  that  made  me  dread  more  than  any  other 
calamity  an  unhappy  marriage.  So  for  years  I  have 
prayed  that  if  there  was  a  possible  one  anywhere  on 
the  earth  whom  I  might  some  day  love  with  a  love 
that  I  knew  would  make  or  mar  my  happiness — I 
prayed  I  might  love  worthily  and  well.  I  prayed  that 
she  might  be  such  as  would  make  me  happy,  and  that 
I  might  be  all  that  would  make  her  happy,  and  that 
our  purposes  and  our  tastes  might  harmonize.  From 
the  first  I  have  felt,  in  a  way,  though  I  would  not  ac 
knowledge  it  to  myself,  that  you  were  the  one  out  of 
the  whole  world  I  would  choose ;  but  I  waited  to  test 
the  matter,  and  I  wished  to  test  it  as  much  for  your 
sake  as  for  mine.  I  am  satisfied.  It  is  the  one  love  of 
my  life.  Whether  you  love  me  or  not  I  shall  continue 


CARNTON  AND  SIDNEY.  337 

to  the  end  as  I  have  begun.  You  will  be  the  one 
woman  in  the  whole  world  for  me." 

They  still  were  walking,  but  when  they  again  came 
to  the  corner  where  the  chairs  were  Sidney  sank  down 
in  the  chair  farthest  from  the  light  that  streamed  out 
across  the  stones  on  the  veranda  floor  and  out  over 
flie  grass  starred  with  fireflies,  mingling  with  the 
white  moonlight. 

Then,  as  Sidney  spoke  no  word,  Carnton  stood  and 
waited  before  her,  his  face  gleaming  pale  in  the  light 
— pale,  but  full  of  the  eagerness  of  hope  dashed  with 
n  little  fe;,r. 

The  crickets  sang  loudly,  the  fireflies  shot  back  and 
forth,  and  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  scent  of  the 
white  jasmine  flowers  gleaming  in  the  moonlight. 
Away  across  the  level  tops  of  the  houses  were  the 
familiar  domes  and  minarets  against  the  deep,  dark 
blue  sky  of  the  oriental  night,  and  the  cry  of  a  night 
bird  rang  out  as  it  passed  them. 

"  Sidney,"  he  said,  with  great  yearning  in  his  voice, 
'•Sidney,  have  yon  no  answer  for  me  ?  " 

';  Did  you  ask  me  a  question  ? "  she  murmured,  her 
voice  sounding  strange  and  far  away  even  to  herself. 

"Did  I  not?  I  have  put  my  love  at  your  feet. 
Will  you  take  it  up,  or  will  you  trample  on  it?" 

Again  the  silence  and  the  sad  cry  of  the  crickets. 

"  I  shall  not  trample  on  it,"  she  finally  said,  slowly  ; 
but  when  he  took  her  hand  it  lay  cold  and  passive  in 
his  close  clasp. 

""What  is  it,  Sidney,"  he  cried,  passionately,  "that 
has  come  between  us?  It  ought  not  to  be  thus  if 
your  soul  answers  the  call  of  my  own." 

With  a  visible  effort  Sidney  spoke : 


338  THK  BISHOP'S  C<>NVI:KSI<>\. 

"  We  were  very  near  each  other  once,  just  before 
the  trouble  over  Sitara,  but  when  I  was  full  of  bur 
dens  and  anxiety  and  covered  with  shame  at  the  pub 
licity  of  the  trial  you  drew  away  and  left  me  to  bear 
it  all  alone." 

"O,  my  darling,  did  it  seem  that  way  to  you?  It 
was  not  true,  it  was  not  true."  And  then,  low  and 
quickly,  "  Do  you  not  remember  when  Mrs.  Clinton 
came  down  with  me  to  invite  you  to  go  to  Bi  bin  pur, 
and  she  told  you  that  it  was  my  plan  ?"  His  lips 
were  veryeloee  to  her  car  now,  and  he  only  breathed 
the  words  :  "  I  knew — I  knew  then  what  would  make 
or  mar  my  happiness.  I  felt  I  was  ready  to  ask  and 
ready  to  receive,  if  I  might,  the  benediction  of  your 
love;  and  I  wished  to  take  you  away  from  all  the 
noises  of  native  life,  away  where  we  might  feel  free 
from  interruption,  away  for  a  moment  from  all  this  life 
which  has  only  work  in  its  plan  and  has  no  time  for 
love.  I  felt  you  would  not  be  taken  by  surprise,  that 
you,  as  well  as  I,  had  seen  that  we  were  sympathetic; 
that  the  attraction  had  from  the  first  been  mutual,  and 
that  I  had  been  just  to  you  as  well  as  myself  to  give 
you  a  month  or  two  to  test  the  matter.  I  saw  you 
were  distant  and  even  cool  toward  me,  but  I  said  to 
myself,  'The  native  people  have  been  saying  things 
to  her  as  well  as  to  me  about  our  marriage  and  she, 

O       •*  s 

like  myself,  wishes  to  avoid  remark.' ' 

Sidney  moved  uneasily  in  her  chair.  She  wished 
she  dared  to  ask  him  what  they  had  said. 

"  So  when  I  was  driven  to  give  up  the  test ;  when  I 
found  I  must  have  the  right  to  see  you  now  and  then, 
to  warn  you  to  take  care  of  yourself;  when  I  began 
night  and  day  to  be  filled  with  terror  at  the  thought 


CARNTOX  AXD  SIDXKY.  339 

of  evil  befalling  you,  of  accidents,  of  sudden  disease, 
and  at  the  thought  I  might  never  even  tell  yon  of  the 
love  I  had  in  my  heart  for  yon,  I  went  to  you  feeling 
von  knew  ;,11  that  was  in  my  heart,  and  would  know 
why  1  came.  Do  you  remember?  Yon  promised  at 
iirst  to  come  with  ns,  and  then  when  yon  knew  that 
it  was  I  who  had  planned  it — that  I  was  going — you 
drew  hack  coldly  and  said  the  demands  of  your  work 
would  not  allow  you  to  go.  It  meant  simply  to  me 
that  love  had  no  place  in  your  plan — -that  you  would 
not  give  np  your  work,  that  the  liking  I  was  persuaded 
you  had  for  me  was  not  strong  enough  to  force  you, 
as  I  had  been  forced,  to  doing  what  had  not  been  in 
your  plan.  I  went  home  with  the  same  stunned  feel 
ing  I  had  once  after  falling  from  a  cliff  and  striking 
on  my  head.  It  did  not  leave  me,  and  I  hardly  knew 
what  was  going  on  around  me.  A  letter  came  from 
Marker,  who  has  charge  of  the  district  while  Thomp 
son  is  away,  asking  me  to  go  to  Ilowali  to  look  after 
some  things  there,  and  I  was  gone  two  or  three  days. 
After  I  came  back  I  now  and  then  heard  some 
mention  of  Sitara  and  the  trial,  but  I  did  not  under 
stand  you  had  anything  to  do  with  it  until  I  saw  it 
in  the  papers.  I  was  shocked  and  cut  to  the  heart 
at  what  I  knew  you  must  have  suffered,  but  when  I 
tried  to  get  near  enough  to  show  you  my  sympathy 
you  would  have  naught  of  me  ;  you  kept  me  at  arm's 
length  and  would  not  talk  of  vour  trouble.  When, 

£j  *J 

determined  not  to  be  put  off,  I  asked  you  direct 
questions,  you  told  less  than  you  would  have  told  a 
stranger." 

"  That   was   natural,"   sai  1    Sidney,    simply,   as  he 
waited   for  a   reply.     She  had  found  her  own  voice 


34:0  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

again,  only  there  was  a  curious  sound  of  elation  and 
joy  in  it. 

"I  can  see  now  that  you  thought  I  was  avoiding 
you  when  I  was  so  full  of  my  own  trouble  that  I 
hardly  knew  what  I  was  doing.  I  suffered,  I  suffered, 
and  I  knew  it  was  only  a  beginning  of  the  long  days  and 
nights  that  must  be  lived  through.  "When  I  saw  poor 
Rokewood  dying  I  envied  him  the  short,  sharp  agony, 
and  I  would  gladly  have  exchanged  places  with  him/' 

Sidney  put  out  her  hand  with  a  gesture  of  dissent. 

"  No,  O,  no  !  "  she  said,  quickly. 

Her  linn  1  was  taken  in  that  close,  sweet  clasp  she 
remembered  so  well  ;  and  she  thought  dreamily  that 
she  had  been  mistaken — that  it  had  not  been  the  last. 

"  It  was  only  the  pity  and  anxiet}7  in  your  face,  and  I 
almost  thought  something  more  than  pity,  that  even 
ing  as  we  came  from  the  cemetery  that  made  me  hope 
against  reason.  I  could  not  help  it.  Was  I  wrong?" 

Sidney's  other  hand,  soft,  clinging,  and  warm,  crept 
into  his,  and  her  hot  cheek  was  against  his  forehead, 
and  he  had  his  answer. 

Later  on,  when  she  again  found  her  voice,  she  said  : 

"•  When  you  came  that  night  I  had  Sitara  in  the 
house,  and  I  did  not  dare  leave  her.  I  was  anxious 
and  fearful,  but  I  wanted  so  much,  so  very  much,  to 
go,  especially  as  I  had  thought  you  unkind  for  a  long 
time,  and  it  must  have  been  the  effort  I  made  to  say 
no  that  made  my  answer  seem  cold  ;  but  that  should 
not  have  been  enough  for  any,  except  a  very  faint 
heart,"  she  added,  with  a  touch  of  the  teasing  spirit 
which  lurks  in  all  women. 

'•  It  was  not  all  that.  I  had  heard  you  say  that  a 
true  woman  would  save  a  man  the  pain  and  humiiia- 


CARNTON  AND  SIDNEY.  341 

tion  of  a  refusal  by  letting  liiin  know  in  an  indefinite 
way  that  she  did  not  care  for  him.  Your  manner 
seemed  plain  enough,  and  I  put  the  two  together." 

'•  Which,"  interrupted  Sidney,  with  a  happy  laugh, 
'•  was  very  stupid.  You  should  never,  never  put  a 
woman's  two  and  two  together.  They  are  made 
to  be  separate — alag,  alag,  as  our  Hindoostanee  friends 
say." 

"  Very  well,  if  you  forgive  me  and  make  up  the 
loss  to  me  by  marrying  me  at  once  I  will  not — at 
least  I  will  try  not  to  do  it  again." 

"Ah,  that  is  another  thing,"  said  Sidney,  shyly; 
"there  are  too  many  things  to  be  considered." 

"  Name  them.  I  am  ready,  for  during  the  last  day 
or  two  I- have  met  and  conquered  every  obstacle  that 
you  could  possibly  conjure  up." 

Sidney  laughed  at  his  earnestness  and  said,  "  Very 
well,  if  you  know  them  so  well,  suppose  you  enu 
merate  them  ? " 

"  First,  then,  your  duty  to  your  society ;  second, 
your  duty  to  your  society;  third,  your  duty  to  your 
society,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum,  and  that  is  all." 

"  Not  all ;  in  fact,  only  the  beginning.  My  work 
is  dear  to  me  beyond  expression.  If  I  could  only  go 
on  with  it,  and — and  also  do  as  you  wisli !  How 
can  I  give  it  up  ?  The  women  who  stood  by  me  in 
all  my  trouble ;  the  schools  that  have  not  failed  me ; 
my  assistants,  especially  the  younger  women,  who 
need  my  help,  and  the  Bible  women — I  have  helped 
them  all — I  do  not  want  to  let  them  go." 

""Why    need    you?      You    can    superintend  them 
from  my — our — house  as  well,  or  nearly  as  well,  as 
from  the  place  where  you  are  living." 
24 


342  Tin-;   BISHOP'S  CO.NVKK>IO.\. 

Sidney  looked  at  him  with  mingled  affection  and 
amusement  and  with  a  shadow  of  vexation. 

"  Tliat  shows  just  how  muc!i  you  understand  our 
work,  its  difficulties,  and  its  needs  ;  and  then  you  be- 
long  to  another  society.  My  fostering  mother  would 
hardly  recognize  me  as  her  child  after  I  had  allied 
myself  with  a  foreign  power." 

"Well,  we  will  arrange  it  some  way  satisfactorily." 
he  said,  as  Mrs.  Clinton  came  into  the  drawing  room. 

lie  rose,  saying  under  his  voice,  "  I  shall  tell  her; 
she  has  been  so  kind.  Come — 

Sidney  arose,  and,  taking  the  arm  extended  to  her, 
went  in  happily  to  be  presented  to  Mrs.  Clinton,  who, 
when  she  saw  them  enter  thus,  turned  quickly  and 
brought  the  Bishop,  who,  astonished  and  glad,  gave 
them  a  blessing;  and  then,  as  Sidney  said  she  wished 
to  go  at  once,  they  had  good-night  prayers,  as  was  the 
custom  in  the  mission,  and  the  Bishop  craved  a  bless 
ing  from  God  on  the  two  vounar  lives  which  were  to 

ml  O 

be  united  in  love  and  in  their  devotion  to  the  welfare 
of  others. 

Was  there  ever  such  a  drive  home  as  Sidney  had 
that  night  ? 

"I  think  I  may  this  night  venture  to  drive  home 
with  her,"  he  had  said,  smilingly,  to  Mrs.  Clinton  : 
"I  can  now  defy  the  Hindoostanee  Mrs.  Grundy." 
And,  Sidney's  eyes  giving  consent,  he  went. 

The  white  moonlight,  pouring  a  silver  flood  over 
tamarind  and  mango,  over  dome  and  minaret  and 
temple,  over  all  in  luxuriant  splendor,  seemed  made 
for  them.  It  was  a  night  for  love  and  sweet  words 
and  sweeter  silences,  and  these  two  people  knew  it, 
and  wasted  neither  time  nor  opportunity. 


SMALLPOX.  343 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

SMALLPOX. 

Lot  weather  was  beginning  to  lose  its  hold, 
_1_  and  everybody  was  glad,  though  it  was  still  too 
warm  to  be  more  than  passively  glad. 

People  Avho  had  got  almost  to  the  end  of  their 
strength  kept  up  hope,  thinking  they  would  pull 
through  if  the  eold  weather  came  soon,  and  looked 
forward  to  the  time  when  exhaustion  and  steamy 
heat  and  cholera  and  fever  would  give  place  to  vigor 
and  cold  and  smallpox  and  fever — to  the  time  when 
fruit  and  vegetables  would  once  more  appear  on  the 
table  and  when  it  would  be  possible  to  think  of  meat 
without  a  qualm;  when  the  troublesome,  tiresome, 
ever-present  white  clothes  might  be  exchanged  for 
dark  ones,  even  though  they  were  far  from  fresh  and 
h:id  the  charnel-house  odor  that  all  woolen  clothes 
get,  no  matter  how  well  put  away  in  tin-lined  boxes. 

The  cold  weather  was  really  coming,  far  the  pun 
kahs  were  being  taken  down,  bungalows  were  re 
ceiving  their  annual  whitewashing,  and  people  were 
coming  back  from  the  hills  with  renewed  strength. 
Lillian,  among  the  number,  had  come  down  with  Mrs. 
Mackenzie  and  Katie,  both  children  wildly  happy  to 
be  home  again.  This  going  to  the  hills  was  one  of 
the  points  Bishop  Clinton,  as  well  as  his  wife,  had 
objected  to  at  the  beginning  of  the  hot  weather,  but 


344  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

before  the  middle  of  it  the  former  was  one  of  the 
strongest  to  urge  men  and  women  that  were  in  danger 
of  breaking  down  to  take  a  few  weeks  out  of  the 
heat  ere  the  doctor  ordered  it,  saying  that  prevention 
\vas  better  and  less  expensive  to  the  mission  than  cure. 
Perhaps  he  had  been  helped  to  see  tin's  by  the  fact  that 
Lillian  was  obliged  to  go  and  that  lie  knew  his  wife 
ought  to  have  gone.  It  helps  wonderfully  toward  a 
liberal  view  of  things  to  have  one's  own  in  dire  straits. 

But  Mrs.  Clinton  had  pulled  through,  partly  be 
cause  she  had  determined  to  do  so  with  a  persistent 
obstinacy  that  was  a  surprise  to  her  husband.  She 
had  kept  up  a  little  mission  work,  though  much  of 
the  time  it  had  been  of  a  very  passive  kind  ;  still  even 
that  had  its  influence.  But  she  had  often  visited  her 
protegee,  Pulmoni,  who  was  now  going  regularly  to 
the  Lady  Dufferm  School  for  Nurses,  and  now  that 
the  heat  was  abating  she  was  again  going  out  to  the 
zenanas  twice  a  week. 

She  had  a  Bible  woman  always  with  her  who  knew 
English,  and  who  did  much  or  nearly  all  of  the  teach 
ing,  and  through  her  she  was  able  to  leave  some  word 
of  truth  with  the  women  each  time  that  was  remem 
bered  perhaps  better  because  of  the  fewness  of  her 
words,  because  of  the  novelty  of  having  a  great  Mem 
Sahib  come  to  see  them,  and  still  more  because  of  her 
tact  and  of  her  loving  heart  and  sympathetic  ways. 
The  women  always  asked  about  her  children,  and  evi 
dently  felt  much  respect  for  her  because  she  had  two 
grown-up  sons,  and  also  showed  much  interest  in  Lil 
lian  Baba,  whom  many  of  them  had  seen  on  private 
visits  to  Mrs.  Clinton  and  in  the  few  times  she  had 
been  to  the  zenanas  with  her  mother. 


SMALLPOX.  345 

Lillian  liked  going,  and  always  said  stoutly  that  she 
would  be  a  missionary  like  Sidney,  and  that  she  ought 
to  be  allowed  to  go  with  her  mother,  because  she  was 
going  to  teach  in  the  zenanas  when  she  grew  up. 
Mrs.  Clinton  had  been  advised  not  to  take  her,  as  there 
were  many  reasons  why  the  zenanas  were  not  a  good 
place  for  a  little  girl.  But  one  morning  Mrs.  Clinton 
was  going  to  visit  a  particularly  agreeable  family 
that  had  often  begged  her  to  bring  Lillian,  and  she 
yielded  and  took  her. 

They  left  the  gari  at  a  narrow  street  and  passed  on 
down  by  walls  and  shops  and  fat,  shiny,  brown  chil 
dren  playing  by  huge  wells,  past  mosques,  and  around 
square  corners  until  the  Bible  woman  rattled  a  loose 
door  in' a  mud  wall  and  called  out,  "  Ham  awe!" 
which  was  answered  by  a  shaky,  shivery  old  man 
who  led  them  at  once  into  a  courtyard  and  then 
through  an  arched  gateway  into  another  courtyard. 
The  house  on  one  side  of  this  yard  was  two  stories 
high  ;  the  side  opposite  to  this  was  an  arcade  filled 
with  various  cooking- pots  and  housekeeping  appli 
ances  of  the  most  primitive  order.  The  other  and 
opposite  sides  of  the  square  were  arcades  with 
double  rows  of  arches  and  pillars  and  carpeted 
floors,  arrived  at  by  wide  steps,  being  about  four  feet 
above  the  ground. 

Here,  sitting  on  the  floor  with  their  second-best 
gauze  chuddars  and  silk  gowns  of  all  colors,  were  a 
dozen  women.  They  were  evidently  expecting  visit 
ors,  for  these  same  women  ordinarily  wore  cotton 
clothes  of  the  simplest  kind.  They  had  on  also  their 
second-best  jewels;  their  very  best  clothes  and  jewels 
always  being  kept  like  those  of  their  sisters  the  world 


340  -  THE  BISHOP'S  Cox  VERSION. 

over  for  weddings  and  dinners  of  ceremony.  Lillian 
loved  these  women  as  soon  as  she  saw  them.  They 
were  so  pretty  and  so  gentle,  and  their  clothes  flung 
such  sweet  odors  about  them  as  they  moved  ;  their 
rings  and  bangles  and  toe  rings  made  such  a  delicious 
tinkle,  softened  by  the  swish  of  their  silken  garment?, 
and  she  felt  so  obliged  to  them  for  making  her  nurs 
ery  vision  true,  of  the  fair  woman  who,  with  "  rings 
on  her  finders  and  bells  on  her  toes,"  has  "  music  wher- 

O  f 

ever  she  goes." 

And,  too,  they  each  seemed  as  much  little  girls  as 
she  herself,  and  even  mere,  for  the  one  thing  that 
delighted  them  more  than  an  English  child  was  an  Eng 
lish  doll.  So  Lillian  had  brought  a  doll  to  leave  with 
them,  though  she  herself  was  quite  done  with  dolls. 
She  and  the  doll  both  were  seized  by  the  younger 
women,  who  passed  their  babies  to  their  nurses  in 
order  to  take  the  doll  to  examine  its  hair,  its  eyes,  its 
clothes,  wild  with  delight  as  they  found  each  garment. 
Avonld  come  off  and  could  be  put  on  again  with  won 
derful  buttons  and  buttonholes,  unknown  agencies 
with  them.  There  is  even  no  word  for  button  in  the 
Ilindoostanee  language,  and  no  use  for  buttonholes  ; 
the  Hindoo  woman's  dress  being  one  garment  draped 
artistically  about  the  body  and  over  the  head,  and  the 
Mohammedan  woman's  clothes  either  draped  or  tied 
with  strings. 

After  they  had  finished  with  the  doll  and  over 
whelmed  Lillian  with  caresses  for  bringing  it,  they 
then  came  around  Mrs.  Clinton  like  a  flock  of  gay, 
bright-colored  birds,  chirping  questions.  One  ex 
claimed  that  the  wonderful  lady  who  had  come  to  see 
them  "had  stockings  on  her  hands,"  referring  to  the. 


MRS.    CLINTON   AND  LILLIAN    IN    A    ZENANA. 


SMALLPOX.  847 

long  Suede  gloves  she  wore ;  another  asked  why  the 
Mem  Sahibs  did  not  cut  holes  in  their  ears  and  noses 
for  jewels. 

Mrs.  Clinton  told  them  that  many  white  women  did 
cut  holes  in  their  ears  for  jewels,  bnt  that  they  thought 
it  barbarous  and  unbecoming  and  unbeautiful  to  cut 
holes  in  their  noses. 

At  this  there  was  a  wondering  silence  and  looks  of 
incredulity  on  their  faces. 

"  But  how  can  that  be  ? "  said  one,  finally.  "  Is  the 
nose  an  ugly  feature,  that  it  cannot  be  given  a  jewel  1 
Or  is  it  more  honor  to  the  ear  they  wish  to  give?" 

Mrs.  Clinton  had  not  a  word  to  say.  She  had  al 
ways  herself  thought  it  a  very  barbarous  custom  to 
cut  the  flesh  in  any  place,  whether  ear  or  nose,  for 
jewels,  and  therefore  she  had  no  excuse  to  offer.  To 
turn  their  attention  she  said  her  countrywomen,  how 
ever,  wore  rings  on  their  fingers. 

"  And  on  their  toes,  like  us  ?  " 

"No,  no;  but  they  wear  things  like  these,"  taking 
the  tiny  perfect  hand  of  the  questioner  in  hers  and 
touching  the  heavy  bangles. 

"And  like  these?"  putting  out  a  perfect  foot  that 
matched  the  hand,  showing  so  many  and  such  heavy 
gold  and  silver  anklets  that  the  foot  was  raised  with 
difficulty. 

"No,  only  on  the  wrists;"  and  again  she  could  not 
explain  why  it  was  nice  and  proper  to  wear  metals  on 
wrists  but  not  on  ankles. 

There  was  a  little  murmur  of  wonder,  and  then  they 
wandered  to  other  subjects — "  How  many  children 
had  she?  and  was  it  true  that  Mem  Sahibs  had  men 
to  nurse  them  when  they  were  ill,  and  that  English 


548  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

women  did  not  love  their  babies  and  would  not  give 
them  their  own  natural  food  ?  that  as  soon  as  the 
sons  were  married  they  were  turned  out  of  the  house 
and  obliged  to  find  a  house  for  themselves  : '" 

She  had  to  say  it  was  the  eusto:n  for  the  sons  to 
have  their  own  houses,  and  they  preferred  it:  it  was 

*/       1 

no  cruelty.  This,  too,  they  could  not  understand,  as 
in  India  every  son  brings  his  wife  home  to  share  his 
parents'  house  and  be  ruled  over  by  his  mother.  She 
answered  all  their  questions  with  patience,  and  some 
times  amusement.  There  was  a  discussion  among  the 
women  why  Lillian  was  so  white  and  their  daughters 

«/ 

so  black,  and  one  concluded  it  was  because  she  used  a 
particular  kind  of  soap,  but  she  was  laughed  to  scorn 
by  the  more  intelligent  ones,  who  had  had  it  explained 
years  ago  to  their  satisfaction — that  is,  that  it  was 
the  Mem  Sahib's  caste  to  be  white  and  theirs  to  be 
black. 

Then  a  tray  was  brought,  on  which  was  a  little  sil 
ver  dish  of  cardamom  seeds,  some  pan,  and  two  tin 
sel  necklaces,  or  hars,  which  were  hung  respectively 
around  her  own  and  Lillian's  necks,  and  the  cardamom 
seeds  given  them  to  eat  and  the  pan  to  chew. 

Lillian  liked  the  latter,  but  Mrs.  Clinton  kept  hers 
in  her  hand. 

There  was  a  little  baby,  that  was  kept  rather  in  the 
background  and  nearly  covered.  The  mother,  a  lovely 
child-woman,  hardly  larger  than  Lillian  herself,  had 
been  much  interested  in  the  doll  and  Lillian,  fondling 
both  with  affectionate  delight. 

Mrs.  Clinton  asked  casually  why  that  baby,  too,  had 
not  been  brought  forward  for  inspection,  like  the 
others.  The  Bible  woman  looked  grave  at  the  answer. 


SMALLPOX.  349 

and  did  not  translate  all  the  woman  said,  simply  stating 
that  the  baby  was  ill. 

"  What  kind  of  illness  2  "  asked  Mrs.  Clinton. 

"  It  is  ill,  but  it  will  soon  be  better,  and  will  it 
please  your  honor  to  go  now  ? "  she  said,  a  little  ur 
gently. 

"  But  first  let  us  see  if  we  cannot  do  something  for 

o 

the  poor  little  baby.     Bring  it  to  me." 

"  Pardon  me,  your  honor,  but  it  is  a  sickness  that 
English  people  do  not  like." 

"  Then  tell  me  at  once  what  it  is." 

"  Smallpox.  It  will  be  better  to  go  now.  All  Mem 
Sahibs  do  very  much  not  like  this  disease." 

Mrs.  Clinton  was  silent  with  terror,  not  for  herself, 
but  for  Lillian,  for  she  remembered  that  the  mother 
had  had  her  sick  baby  in  her  lap  just  before  she  had 
put  her  arms  around  Lillian. 

She  took  her  leave  without  any  apparent  hurry  and 
with  her  usual  sweetness,  but  told  Lillian  not  to  em 
brace  any  of  them  or  to  even  shake  hands. 

The  visit  had  been  long,  and  there  was  no  thought 
among  them  that  there  was  any  precipitancy,  but  Mrs. 
Clinton  was  silent  on  the  long  drive,  which  seemed 
doubly  long.  The  Bible  woman  was  evidently  trou 
bled,  though  'she  tried  to  say  that  there  was  little  dan 
ger  and  begged  her  not  to  be  anxious. 

"\Vhen  they  were  finally  home  Mrs.  Clinton  gave 
Lillian  some  disinfectant,  and  sent  her  to  change  all 
her  clothes  and  have  a  bath.  She  herself  went  into  her 
bath  room  for  the  same  purpose,  but  when  she  was 
alone  she  sat  down  suddenly  on  her  chair,  unable  to 
go  any  further.  Time  passed  and  still  she  sat  as 
though  stunned,  her  hands  clasped  tight  in  her  lap 


350  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

and  her  face  white  and  drawn.  The  hot  season  and 
the  rains  had  told  on  her — told  on  her  as  she  had  not 
guessed,  but  as  her  friends  were  seeing  with  some  ap 
prehension.  Now  even  a  stranger  might  have  been 
startled  at  the  pale  gray  tone  of  her  skin  and  the  hol 
lows  under  her  eves  and  the  fixed  look  as  though  she 
saw  some  ghastly  horror  staling  her  in  the  face. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  met  this  specter 
face  to  face,  but  now  she  not  alone  shivered  under  his 
gaze.  Lillian,  fair,  dainty  Lillian,  had  felt  his  breath 
on  her  face,  though  all  unconscious  of  her  danger,  and 
because  of  this  the  full  terribleness  of  life  in  India  for 
the  first  time  seized  hold  of  her.  And  she  felt  she  was 
not  isolated  in  her  agony.  Nearly  every  missionary 
wife  was  a  mother,  and  while  fearless  for  themselves 
none  could  escape  this  deadly  fear  for  their  dear  ones. 
They  could  give  their  own  lives,  they  could  risk  the 
horror  of  infection  for  themselves,  but  what  of  risk 
ing  lives  that  had  been  committed  to  them?  They 
could  pass  in  and  out  of  the  zenanas  and  schools,  sub 
ject  to  contagion  from  loathsome  and  deadly  diseases, 
with  light  hearts  and  clear,  unfurrowcd  brows,  but  how 
could  they  go  on  as  they  had  year  after  year,  knowing 
that  there  was  no  likelihood  whatever  of  all  the  dear 
little  forms  escaping  and  all  the  dear  little  feet  walk 
ing  straight  and  unharmed  through  the  terrible  or 
deal?  She  seemed  to  see  all  the  hundreds  of  men 
and  women,  brave  and  faithful,  who  had  trod  these 
paths  of  thorns  with  torn  and  bleeding  feet,  but  with 
out  one  murmur  or  even  one  thought  of  heroism. 
And  she — she  had  been  blind  ;  but  now  with  clear 
vision  she  saw  that  many  a  mother  who  could  be 
brave  and  cheerful  in  daylight,  in  action,  when  faith 


SMALLPOX.  351 

could  be  upheld  by  the  energy  of  work,  dreaded  the 
long  hot  nights  when  sleep  was  impossible,  when  she 
could  only  feel  her  empty  arms,  that  ached  more  from 
their  emptiness  than  ever  they  did  with  the  weight  of 
the  dear  burden,  and  could  only  see  the  pained,  dis 
torted  face  of  her  darling  appealing  to  her  through  the 
darkness;  and  many  a  father  who,  as  he  went  about 
his  work,  could  rest  in  firm  confidence  on  his  call  to 
help  evangelize  the  world,  at  midnight  could  only 
turn  on  his  bed  with  suppressed  groans  because  of  the 
bitter  loss  and  because  of  a  sense  of  the  injustice  done 
to  the  helpless,  loving  little  things  in  exposing  them 
to  disease  that  had  resulted  in  sudden  and  sharp  or  in 
lingering  and  painful  death.  There  were  little  graves 
in  Bareilly,  in  S hah jehan poor,  in  Cawnpoor,  in  Luck- 
now,  here  and  there  all  over  India,  whose  little  white 
stones  she  seemed  to  see  gleaming  through  the  distance 
with  reproach.  They  seemed  to  be  saying : 

"  A\^e  are  a  part  of  that  easy,  luxurious  life  that 
they  have  said  our  mothers  have  led.  We  are  a  part 
of  the  sacrifice  of  burnt  offering.  Our  mothers  gave 
themselves  and  us,  that  the  poor  people  might  learn 
of  Christ ;  but  was  it  not  hard  ( " 

Yes,  but  Lillian — she  was  not  part  of  a  life-sacri 
fice — she  was  part  of  a  whim,  a  love  of  novelty,  a 
wish  to  justify  their  own  views,  a  dissatisfaction  with 
the  work  of  the  toilers  in  this  awful  land. 

It  was  horrible,  horrible.  Now  that  the  terrors 
of  heat,  apoplexy,  and  cholera  were  hardly  past,  and 
while  in  the  midst  of  the  fever  season,  when  people 
were  dying  right  and  left,  there  must  come  also  this 
most  loathsome  of  all  diseases.  Could  she  have  taken 
her  husband  and  Lillian  and  fled  to  her  own  home 


352  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

she  would  have  gone  at  once ;  and  yet  the  possi 
bility  of  Lillian  taking  smallpox  did  not  seem  great, 
for  she  had  been  vaccinated,  and  never  had  been  a 
child  to  contract  disease  of  any  kind.  It  was  the 
general  horror  of  living  a  life  never  one  moment  free 
from  terror — smallpox,  cholera,  leprosy,  fever,  and 
sunstroke,  always  ready  to  snatch  a  dear  one  ;  never 
waking  in  the  morning  with  the  certainty  that  the 
sun's  rays  striking  in  one's  eyes  might  not  be  inter 
cepted  before  night  by  three  feet  of  white  sand.  The 
thought  came  with  startling  force  that  even  now  one 
of  those  empty,  yawning,  ready-made  graves  kept  in 
India  intent  be  waiting  for  herself  or  for  one  dearer 

o  o 

than  self  to  her.  Only  the  day  before  had  she  seen 
them  in  the  cemetery  where  she  had  gone  with  Miss 
Whitlow  to  put  some  flowers  on  Rokewood'a  grave, 
and  the  thought  had  hardly  left  her  since,  and  this 
new  danger  seemed  only  a  part  of  a  ghastly  life  in  a 
horrible  country. 

After  five  days — five  days  of  harassing  suspense,  in 
spite  of  reason — Lillian  was  prostrate  in  her  little  bed, 
moaning  with  fever  and  raving  in  delirium. 

When  it  was  first  known  the  doctor,  a  brusque 
man  with  a  kind  heart,  ordered  strict  quarantine,  and 
Carnton  had  sent  a  message  to  each  mission  house, 
telling  of  the  calamity  and  of  the  doctor's  orders. 

It  was  a  blow  to  all,  for  Lillian  had  from  the  first 
been  taken  into  all  hearts.  And  then,  too,  all  the 
members  of  this  great  mission  circle  feel  a  blow  to 
one  as  they  would,  in  a  less  degree,  to  themselves ;  for 
it  only  shows  them  more  clearly  the  dangers  revolving 
around  them.  It  is  a  circle  that  may  be  divided  on 
plans  and  processes  and  polity,  but  in  calamity  it  is 


SMALLPOX. 

<>ne,  and  there  was  not  one  of  all  that  band  that  would 
not  have  gone  gladly  to  Mrs.  Clinton  and  nursed 
Lillian  as  though  she  were  her  own,  had  there  been 
need,  or  had  they  even  been  allowed.  But  at  once, 
on  hearing  it,  a  much-sin  neel-against  Eurasian  girl 
whom  Miss  Whitlow  had  sheltered  in  time  of  calam 
ity  direst  of  all  that  can  fall  to  a  woman,  because  of 
the  sin  it  represents,  came  forward  and  offered  at 
once  to  go  and  nurse  Lillian.  This  was  especially 
fortunate,  for  she  had  been  two  years  in  the  Lady 
Dufferin  Xursing  School,  purposing  to  be  a  nurse; 
and  Pulmoni  also,  Mrs.  Clinton's  protegee,  begged  so 
earnestly  to  go  to  the  Mem  Sahib  who  had  done  so 
much  for  her  that  Dr.  Milburn  excused  them  both 
from  their  attendance  on  their  classes.  So  the  mis 
sionaries  went  on  with  their  work,  feeling  that  Lillian 
was  cared  for  better  than  they  could  have  done  it, 
more  than  ever  glad  that  these  women,  Ethel  Lyori 
and  Pulmoni,  had  been  saved,  and  praying  much  that 
grace  for  every  need  should  be  given. 

And  then  when  Lillian  grew  worse,  and  there 
was  little  hope  of  her  being  better,  Sidney  went  to 
Miss  Whitlow,  and  they  arranged  to  go  and  remain 
alternately  in  the  house,  that  Mrs.  Clinton  might 
have  the  comfort  of  knowing  some  friend  was  with 
her. 

Sidney  was  to  be  the  first,  and  went  up  to  the 
Clintons'  bungalow  after  dinner  to  stay  during  the 
night.  She  entered  quietly,  having  left  her  gari  at 
some  distance.  It  was  so  quiet  that  the  house  seemed 
empty,  but  outside  the  blacksmith  bird  still  beat  the 
air  with  his  endless,  never-quiet  note.  The  brain- 
fever  bird,  however,  was  gone — dead  perhaps  of  the 


354  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

very  disease  with  which  he  had  been  threatening  the 
world  from  the  time  lie  conld  form  a  note. 

The  vines  over  the  veranda,  the  dense  dark  green 
of  the  trees,  and  the  rank  grass  in  the  compound  were 
soaked  with  the  heavy  night  dew  which  caught  the 
white  moonlight  like  a  hoar-frost.  Sidney  saw  Mrs. 
Clinton  for  an  instant,  and  her  heart  was  wrung  at 
the  sight  of  th'e  careful  composure  with  which  she 
spoke,  the  composure  that  comes  only  to  one  whose 
nature,  stretched  to  the  uttermost,  dares  not  give  her 
self  the  luxury  of  one  little  thought  of  self-pity  ;  or 
dares  not,  even  for  a  moment,  take  her  eyes  off  the 
beacon  light  of  a  duty  in  hand,  fearing  precipitation 
in  a  hopeless  abyss  of  helpless  agony.  Sidney  could 
only  say  to  herself,  as  she  sat  quietly  in  a  chair  by 
the  door,  that  she  was  thankful  that  she  had  never 
borne  a  child. 

She  looked  vaguely  at  the  corner  of  the  veranda 
where  she  had  sat,  not  long  before,  on  that  ever- 
blessed  night  with  Carnton,  but  she  could  not  go 
there  and  sit.  though  the  same  chairs  were  there  and 
there  was  the  same  moonlight ;  that  little  spot  be 
longed  only  to  happiness,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  cruel  bodily  and  mental  suffering  with  which, 
since  she  had  seen  Mrs.  Clinton's  face,  and  heard  the 
low  muimur  of  Lillian's  voice  in  delirium,  the  house 
had  seemed  to  be  filled. 

And  here  Carnton,  coming  in  with  quiet  tread, 
found  her.  lie  came  swiftly  toward  her,  and,  taking 
her  hands,  said  sternly  : 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  Why  did  you  come  ', 
O,  my  darling,  why  did  you  come?  You  knew  we 
were  in  quarantine." 


SMALLPOX.  355 

''Yes;  but  I  told  the  doctor  that  I  was  coining  to 
stay  in  the  house  ;  we  could  not  let  Mrs.  Clinton  be 
alone,  and  Miss  "Whitlow  will  take  my  place  when  I 
go.  We  will  take  every  precaution,  every  care — 

"  It  is  wrong,  it  is  wrong,"  he  said,  in  anxious 
pain. 

"  !N"o,  dear,  it  is  right.  Surely  we  can  do  for  dear 
friends  what  we  do  for  strangers  every  clay.  How 
could  we  let  Mrs.  Clinton  think  we  had  deserted  her? 
I  can  see  she  is  a  little  glad  1  am  here,  though  she 
Avill  not  let  me  come  into  the  room  and  help  her." 

"  If  you  had  asked  me  I  should  not  have  allowed 
you  to  come  to  the  house,  but  now  you  are  here  — 

."  Now  I  am  here  I  will  stay."  she  said,  speaking 
quickly,  "to  cover  her  mingled  feeling  of  pleasure  and 
surprise  at  his  authoritative  tone,  but  putting  her 
hand  on  his  face  with  a  tender  little  gesture  all  her 
own. 

"  What  did  the  doctor  say  to-night  about  Lillian  ?  " 
he  asked,  presently. 

'•  He  would  say  nothing." 

Tears  came  into  Cam  ton's  eyes.  Lillian  had  been 
a  pet  of  his,  his  "  dearest  little  friend,"  he  had  some 
times  said. 

"  Poor  little  lamb,"  he  said,  brokenly,  and  turned 
and  went  back  to  his  own  bungalow. 

Sidney  sat  down  by  the  door  and  listened  to  the 
unceasing  murmur  of  the  voice  which  had  been  so 
sweet  and  clear,  but  which  was  now  changed  and  un 
recognizable. 

Mrs.  Clinton  came  out  and  said,  inquiringly, 

u  Perhaps  I  ought  to  send  you  away  ;  I  can  hardly 

tell  what  is  right." 
25 


356  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"It  is  right  for  me  to  be  here,  I  am  sure.  Cer 
tainly  you  will  let  me  risk  as  much  for  Lillian,  whom 
I  love,  as  I  do  for  strangers  in  the  zenanas.'' 

"But  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  wait  until  she 
is  not  so  ill.  There  will  be  long  weeks  of  nursing 
then,  when  my  strength  may  give  out.  I  shall  surely 
want  help  then." 

"  But  there  are  others  who  will  only  be  too  glad  to 
come  then.  Do  not  think  of  me  for  an  instant.  I  am 
here  to  give  you  comfort ;  not  to  add  to  your  anxiety/' 

Then  Mrs.  Clinton  turned  and  went  back  quickly  as 
Lillian's  voice  grew  louder.  Sidney  could  hear  it,  an 
indistinct,  hurried  jumble  of  school  in  Nairn  Tal,  of 
the  lake  around  which  she  thought  she  was  walking  ; 
then  she  thought  she  was  in  a  dandi  and  being  car 
ried  up  from  the  railway  station  at  Kothgadani,  up 
the  mountains,  and  talked  of  her  fear  that  the  coolies 
would  slip  and  thus  throw  her  over  the  precipice  ; 
then  sometimes  of  her  loneliness  and  homesickness. 
"  Yes,  Ally,"  she  said,  evidently  to  one  of  her  girl 
friends,  "  yes.  Ally,  I  am  wanting  my  mother  so,  but 
you  eee  she  is  having  an  experiment,  and  she  cannot 
come  ;  and  she  goes  to  the  zenanas  and  the  women  love 
her,  the  pretty  women  with  dear  little  hands  and  feet. 
Rings  on  her  fingers  and  bells  on  her  toes — one  on 
each  toe  ;  but  why  put  them  in  my  head  ?  She  was 
to  have  them  only  on  her  toes.  Why  cut  holes  in  my 
head  for  rings  or  bells.  There  is  one  big  bell  like 
the  church  bell,  and  it  rings  and  it  rings  slowly, 
slowly — ring — ring,  so  it  goes.  But  where  is  mother  '. 
I  am  going  to  the  zenanas  too,  like  Miss  Mellen,  but 
some  way  not  now — not  now,  but  when  I  can  walk 
further — no,  when  I  am  bigger,  but  not  now  ;  "  and 


SMALLPOX.  357 

another  time,  "  But  why  not  now  ?  It  is  only  to  tell 
of  Christ,  how  he  died  on  the  cross.  I  think  his 
head  must  have  ached  like  mine ;  it  does  ache  very 
much,  but  I  think  I  could  go  now  ;  it  is  a  long  time 
to  wait,  and  thousands  and  thousands  will  die  without 
knowing-  about  Christ — ho\v  they  hung  him  on  the 
cross  because  he  would  tell  them  of  a  better  way  to 
live  ;  but  they  would  be  glad — "  Then  again,  ';I  think 
I  would  better  go  now;"  and  she  would  sit  up  in  bed, 
while  her  mother  with  breaking  heart  would  per 
suade  her  to  He  down  again,  or  sometimes  would  have 
to  hold  her  down.  Ethel  and  Pulmoni  were  ready 
with  loving  devotion,  as  also  was  the  Christian  woman 
who  had  been  Lillian's  ayah. 

"But  I  want  mother  so  much.  The  lake  looks  hot- 
to-day,  or  is  it  my  head  ?  Do  you  think  it  is  cooler 
down  below  ?  Perhaps  if  I  put  my  head  away  down, 
down  below  the  shadows  of  the  willows,  down  below 
even  where  the  goddess  goes,  it  might  be  cool,  but  I 
don't  see  why  mother  does  not  come.  The  teachers 
are  good,  but  I  don't  think  they  are  mothers.  I  would 
go  to  find  her,  but  there  are  snakes  on  the  floor,  al 
ways  cobras  and  cobras,  and  lizards,  too,  but  I  \vill  go 
when  the  light  comes,  so  I  can  see  to  step  over  them. 
It  will  be  morning  after  a  while,  and  then  I  will  go  ; 
when  I  find  her  I  will  hold  her  hard  and  never  let  go. 
I  will  go  when  the  light  comes;"  and  the  frantic, 
maddened  mother  would  take  her  hand  and  murmur 
words  of  assurance  and  tender  names  which  would 
quiet  her  for  a  while. 

The  sting  of  it  all  was  the  experiment  part  of  it. 
Had  they  felt  the  call  of  God  to  come  to  this  work 
there  would  not  have  been  this  bitterness;  but  it  was 


358  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

their  own  experiment,  and  was  God  in  thus  rebuking 
them,  was  he  not  rebuking  them  in  stern  anger — yea, 
was  he  not  chastising  them  ?  and  how  soon  would  he 
think  their  punishment  heavy  enough  ?  And  then 
there  came  a  day  when  she  heard  a  voice  in  her  heart. 
"  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God ; "  and  she  was 
still,  and  waited,  leaving  everything  to  him,  even  her 
own  mistake  in  coming,  her  own  mistake  in  staying — 
if  it  were  a  mistake — and  her  mistake  in  taking  Lillian 

o 

to  the  zenana. 

Ever  afterward  the  whole  terrible  time  remained  in 
her  memory  as  one  long  day — a  day  wherein  some 
times  the  lamps  were  lighted  and  sometimes  there 
was  daylight ;  a  day  in  which  the  doctor  seemed  ever 
to  come  and  go,  but  a  day  in  which  they  all  were 
helpless,  cruel  witnesses  of  pain  and  suffering  so 
great  that  it  seemed  to  nil  the  whole  world ;  a  day 
such  as  one  might  have  in  eternity,  if  eternity  holds 
any  agony  so  keen,  so  crushing,  so  terrible  that  it  can 
take  the  life  out  of  heart  and  brain  and  leave  one 
simply  an  object  that  walks,  hardly  knowing  how  or 
why — that  breathes,  and  can,  by  forcing  itself  to  do  so, 
say  words  of  which  it  hardly  knows  the  meaning  ;  but 
an  object  that  really  belongs  with  that  innumerable 
throng  which  had  passed  to  the  other  side  of  the  line 
that  divides  the  living  and  the  dead. 

There  were  weeping  and  hushed  voices  in  many  a 
little  home  where  dark-eyed  mothers  told  their  little 
ones  that  the  beautiful-faced  Miss  Baba  was  going  to 
die,  and  she  was  dying  because  one  of  their  number 
— one  of  them — had  not  been  honest  and  true,  and 
warned  her  mother,  the  great  Mem  Sahib,  that  there 
was  smallpox  in  her  house. 


SMALLPOX.  359 

Then,  after  a  dreary  while,  the  agony  ended,  and 
Ethel  Lyon,  who  had  so  faithfully  helped  them,  lifted 
the  poor  bloated,  diseased  little  form,  placed  it  in  the 
box,  and  then  the  father  closed  and  nailed  it.  As  he 
did  this  the  self-control  which  had  come  from  his  firm 
reliance  on  God  gave  way,  and  a  cry  so  bitter,  so  full 
of  agony,  broke  from  him  that  Ethel  fled,  and  his 
wife,  forgetting  her  own  sorrow,  went  to  him  and 
held  his  head  in  her  arms,  comforting  him,  stroking 
his  hair,  and  saying  tender  words  over  him  as  though 
lie  were  the  child  that  had  been  hidden  from  sight. 

o 

After  that  they  seemed  to  have  reached  the  Xir- 
vana  of  sorrow.  Nothing  could  touch  them  or  make 
them  feel  more  acutely.  The  long  drive  to  the  cem 
etery,  the  dreary  outlook  across  the  plains  from  it, 
the  lowering  of  the  coffin  into  a  grave  that  might  be 
torn  open  by  jackals  or  washed  away  by  the  rains, 
could  not  give  them  one  added  pang. 


360  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HOME  AGAIN. 

Bishop  and  Mrs.  Clinton  returned  from  the 
_|_  cemetery  to  Carnton's  bungalow  to  stay  while 
their  own  was  being  disinfected.  Of  course  they 
were  all  in  quarantine,  but  it  was  not  very  strictly 
kept,  for  in  the  matter  of  smallpox,  as  well  as  other 
things,  familiarity  breeds  contempt.  This  is  not  a  for 
tunate  thing,  for  contempt  has  no  disinfecting  power, 
nor  is  it  in  any  way  a  protection  from  contagion. 
Sidney  and  Miss  "Whitlow,  especially,  had  been  with 
them  so  much  they  did  not  think  it  necessary  to 
stay  away  now,  and  messages,  notes,  and  fruit  and 
flowers,  which  were  again  beginning  to  appear  in  mar 
ket,  came  pouring  in  on  them  at  all  times  of  the  day 
from  the  various  people  they  had  become  acquainted 
with  in  Lucknow.  And  from  all  over  India,  from 
Simla  to  Calcutta,  from  Kaini  Tal  to  Madras,  en  me 
letters  of  sympathy  to  those  sorely  stricken  parents — 
letters  that  the  Bishop  put  away  in  a  box  for  his 
wife  to  read  some  future  day. 

He  had  seen  the  effect  on  her  of  a  few  that  she  her 
self  had  opened  and  read,  and  thereafter  he  watched 
the  mail,  took  the  letters  away  and  read  them  quietly, 
feelino-  that  it  was  almost  more  than  he  himself,  with 

O  * 

all  his  composure,  could  bear.    But  there  was  a  sweet 
ness  in  them  that,  apart   from  the  earnest  sympathy 


HOME  AGAIN.  361 

expressed,  or  because  of  it,  was  precious  to  him,  for 
it  told  of  the  universal  brotherhood  existing  between 
all  who  were  serving  Christ  in  that  dreary  land;  and 
there  was  a  feeling  of  gladness  that  he  had,  even  for 
so  short  a  time,  been  one  of  a  band  bound  together  by 
a  tie  so  strong  and  tender;  and  a  new  hope  for  India's 
millions  entered  his  heart. 

It  was  a  quiet  household,  almost  as  quiet  as  when 
Carnton  had  been  there  alone.  The  Bishop  was  writ 
ing  much,  and  Mrs.  Clinton  sat  with  a  book  in  her 
hands,  whose  leaves  she  never  turned,  looking  idly 
out  on  the  ever-moving  stream  of  native  people  pass 
ing  and  on  the  flocks  of  emerald-green  parrots  flying 
from  one  tree  to  another,  screaming  as  they  went. 

Carnton  came  in  rather  excitedly  one  day  as  she 
was  sitting  thus,  and  told  her  that  a  new  zenana  mis 
sionary  was  on  her  way  out  from  London,  and  that 
another,  an  old  and  experienced  missionary  lady  from 
Calcutta,  had  written  to  say  that  she  required  a  change 
of  climate  and  would  come  and  assist  Miss  Mellen  for 
six  months;  which  was  so  unusual  a  combination  of 
circumstances  that  it  must  mean  only  one  thing — that 
is,  that  it  was  best  for  him  and  Sidney  to  be  married 
at  once,  though  Sidney  herself  would  not  be  con 
vinced  as  yet ;  but  he  said  it  all  joyfully,  as  though  he 
did  not  really  doubt  the  final  result. 

Mrs.  Clinton  smiled  as  she  answered  that  she  knew 
it  would  be  as  he  wished.  Carnton  did  not  like  her 
smile.  There  was  a  settled  sadness  in  it  that  had  no 
relation  to  natural,  healthy  grief.  It  was  almost  de 
spair — not  quite,  but  as  near  it  as  one  having  a  hope 
of  a  glorious  resurrection  could  experience.  It  was 
the  smile  that  comes  when  there  is  a  settled  convic- 


THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

tion  that  all  one's  days  will  hereafter  be  spent  in  a. 
communion  Avith  pain  ;  that  absolutely  never  in  this 
world  will  a  ray  of  pleasure  permeate  one's  life,  and 
that  not  the  faintest  thrill  of  joy  can  again  ever  stir 
one's  heart.  Such  can  smile,  but  cannot  weep. 
Weeping  means  sorrow  that  will  endure  for  a  season, 
but  that  joy  will  come  in  the  morning. 

Mrs.  Clinton  knew  there  would  no  morning  ever 
come  to  her  grief.  This  passive  grief  and  her  pallid, 
lifeless  face  caused  the  doctor  to  give  unasked  advice 
to  the  Bishop.  It  was  the  good  doctor,  the  kind,  the 
patient,  the  never-failing  friend  of  the  missionary, 
who,  meeting  the  Bishop  one  day,  said  to  him : 

"  Why  do  yon  stay  here  ?  If  nothing  urgent  keeps 
you,  you  would  better  go  at  once." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  managed/'  answered  the 
Bishop,  briefly.  lie  was  thinking  of  his  wife,  whom 
he  feared  could  not  be  persuaded  to  give  up  the  plan 
of  staying  a  year.  lie  had  a  strange  feeling  since 
Lillian's  death  that  even  her  slightest  wish  must  not 
be  opposed.  This  silent,  uncomplaining,  changeless 
grief  was  appalling  to  him. 

'*  But  you  must  go  ;  you  must  arrange  it."  persisted 
the  doctor. 

The  Bishop  shook  his  head.  He  was  recalling  the 
time  when  he  had  once  suggested  it  to  his  wife  and 
she  had  refused,  reminding  him  of  his  promise. 

The  doctor  was  getting  impatient.  He  thought  it 
was  indifference  in  the  Bishop. 

"  My  dear  sir,  the  first  thing  I  heard  of  you  was 
that  you  thought  there  should  be  more  missionary 

«/ 

graves  in  India.  Surely  you  cannot  wish  to  add  an 
other!" 


ITOMK  Ar.AiN.  363 

The  Bishop  turned  white  at  this  sharp  thrust.  He 
had  forgotten  his  remark,  and  it  almost  seemed  as 
though  it  were  another  man  who  had  made  it,  so  little 
could  he  recall  the  attitude  of  mind  he  had  been  in 
when  he  came  to  India  ;  but  he  said,  with  grave  pa 
tience,  born  of  his  great  sorrow, 

"  No.     Are  you  thinking  of  my  wife  ?  " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Bishop,"  said  the  doctor,  "I 
wished  only  to  tell  you  that  it  is  necessary  that  your 
wife  be  at  once  removed  from  all  this,  and  I  did  it 
awkwardly,  as  usual,  but  slie  must  go." 

"In  that  case  I  will  write  to-day  for  a  passage,  and 
we  can  leave  next  week." 

"That  is  right,"  was  the  hearty  response;  "this 
country  is  no  place  for  any  white  man  that  is  not 
obliged  by  his  conscience  or  his  finances  to  be 
here." 

And  the  Bishop  murmured  a  solemn  and  strong 
amen. 

His  wife  said  nothing  when  he  told  her  their  pas 
sage  was  engaged,  but  yielded  passively,  which  made 
him  more  troubled  than  ever.  Their  quarantine  was 
ended  by  the  time  they  were  packed  up.  Only  once 
did  Mrs.  Clinton  break  down,  and  that  was  when 
packing  up  some  of  Lillian's  books  that  her  brothers 
had  sent  her;  and  she  said,  as  she  wrung  her  hands: 

"How  can  we  meet  the  boys  without  their  sister? 
How  can  we  live  through  the  landing  in  New  York 
alone?" 

This  made  the  Bishop  ponder,  and  as  a  result  he 
had  the  passage  transferred  two  weeks  later,  and 
wrote  his  brother-bishops  that  he  would  do  the  work 
in  Bulgaria  and  Italy  and  Norway  and  Sweden,  if  they 


3*4  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

liked,  instead  of  taking  the  full  year  of  vacation  they 
had  arranged  for  him. 

He  thought  it  might  be  well  not  only  to  let  the 
truth  come  to  the  boys  gradually  that  Lillian,  their 
pet  and  pride,  was  really  gone,  but  to  have  the  terri 
ble  ordeal  of  seeing  them  be  later,  when  his  wife  was 
stronger  physically,  and  when  time  had  done  what  it 
could  for  her. 

The  day  before  they  started  the  pastor  of  the  native 
church  had  announced  that  the  Bishop  and  also  Mrs. 
Clinton,  if  she  was  able,  would  be  at  the  Sunday 
afternoon  service,  as  they  would  like  from  there  to 
bid  their  native  friends  good-bye. 

The  old  church,  the  dear  old  church  (since  replaced 
by  a  large  new  one)  that  had  held  so  many  farewell 
meetings,  was  full,  but  the  Bishop  came  alone,  for 
Mrs.  Clinton  had  at  the  last  seemed  to  feel  it  too  much 
of  an  ordeal,  and  was  so  white  and  trembling  that  he 
led  her  back  to  the  sitting  room,  and,  kissing  her 
tenderly,  said  firmly  that  she  must  not  go,  and  then 
went  away  himself. 

The  Bishop  sat  inside  the  altar  railing  in  front  of 
the  pulpit  and  looked  down  over  the  audience,  trying 
to  fix  the  whole  scene  as  well  as  individual  faces  in 
his  memory.  The  young  men  and  boys  from  the 
Centennial  School,  the  girls  in  their  pretty  white 
chuddars,  back  of  them  the  women  from  the  Home, 
and  then  the  body  of  the  church  filled  with  clerks 
from  the  railway  or  various  offices,  earnest,  intelligent 
men,  sitting  comfortably  with  wife  and  family  at 
their  sides,  and  servants,  teachers,  and  several  pastors 
who  had  work  in  different  parts  of  the  city.  And 
again  was  he  struck  with  the  different  expression  and 


HOME  AGAIN.  365 

almost  the  different  face  Christianity  gives  to  a  human 
being.  He  knew  lie  was  not  mistaken,  for  here  and 
there  in  the  audience  were  men  whom  he  himself  had 
baptized  and  whom  he  had  watched  through  the  trans 
formation,  and  who  now  looked  like  different  men, 
simply  because  they  were  different  men.  The  native 
pastor,  a  fine,  intelligent  man,  read  an  address  in  Urdu, 
which  was  translated  into  English  by  the  Sunday 
school  superintendent,  dressed  in  English  clothes,  and 
who  spoke  English  well.  Its  purport  was  to  the  effect 
that  the  whole  Christian  community  had  welcomed 
with  pleasure  his  visit  to  them,  but  the  actual  effect 
of  his  visit  had  far  exceeded  their  expectation  ;  that 
one  in  his  high  position  could  leave  all  and  labor  like 
one  of  themselves  had  taught  them  anew  the  beauty 
of  the  sacritice  of  Jesus  Christ ;  had  taught  them  that 
his  followers  could  also,  in  some  degree,  really  partake 
of  the  spirit  of  their  Master.  I3ut  what  could  they 
say  when  the  thought  of  what  this  devotion  had  cost 
was  presented  to  their  minds?  They  could  say  noth 
ing,  for  no  words  would  express  what  they  felt.  Their 
hearts  had  been  bowed  down  with  grief,  and  they 
could  only  say  that  they  could  never  forget  the  beauti 
ful  child  who  had  been  so  gentle  and  loving  ;  and 
they  realized  with  new  force  and  sweetness  what  it 
meant  to  have  a  hope  of  life  after  the  grave,  what  it 
meant  to  feel  sure  of  seeing  again  the  sweet  face  of 
the  dear  child. 

At  first  the  Bishop  could  say  nothing,  and  thought 
it  useless  to  try,  but  he  commanded  himself  finally 
and  answered  : 

"  If,  as  you  say,  you  all  will  remember  the  dear  little 
face  and  the  dear  little  form  of  one  that  loved  you  all 


366  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

well,  let  each  thought  of  her  help  you  to  a  better  life, 
to  more  love  to  God,  to  more  love  to  those  about 
you.  She  was  ever  loving,  ever  thoughtful  of  others, 
and  the  earnest  resolve  of  her  heart  was  to  live  to 
teach  the  people  of  this  laud  of  the  love  of  God  for 
his  sinful  children,  that  they  might  be  saved  through 
believing  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Will  you  to-day 
resolve  not  to  allow  her  life  to  have  been  in  vain — to 
remember  her,  and  always,  always  with  the  thought 
of  carrying  out  her  plans,  to  do  what  she  would  have 
done?"  His  eyes  were  on  the  girls  from  Miss  Dil 
lon's  school,  many  of  them  not  older  than  Lillian. 
"  Take  up  the  golden  thread  where  it  has  been  broken 
and  weave  a  cord  that  shall  bind  many  to  the  truth. 
Think  of  her  sweetness,  of  her  love  for  you,  and 
make  her  resolution  to  lead  many  to  know  that  there 
is  salvation  from  sin,  and  from  the  consequences  of  sin, 
your  resolution  ;  make  it  the  one  motive  of  your  life, 
and  so  our  hearts  may  be  comforted  with  the  thought 
that  she  still  lives  in  your  hearts  and  in  the  lives  of 
many  won  to  the  truth." 

His  voice  broke  at  the  last.  Carnton  had  feared 
that  the  Bishop  was  beginning  something  which  even 
he  could  not  bear.  Tears  were  in  many  eyes  and 
rolling  down  many  cheeks.  Carnton  himself  could 
hardly  sustain  his  composure.  Lillian  had  been  so 
much  connected  in  his  mind  with  Sidney,  from  the 
first,  and  then  her  little  loving  ways  and  her  ab 
solute  friendliness  with  every  living  soul  had  made 
her  very  dear. 

The  address  was  placed  in  a  silver  box  and  given 
to  the  Bishop,  and  the  hand-shakes  given  him  were 
none  the  less  hearty  and  affectionate  because  he  had 


HOMK  AGAIN.  367 

not  been  born  under  their  flag  and  speaking  their 
tongue. 

The  next  morning  there  was  a  quiet  departure  from 
Lucknow  for  the  Xorth. 

The  Bishop  felt  it  would  not  be  just  to  the  Church 
he  served,  nor  to  the  brother-bishops  who  had  taken 
his  work  during  his  absence,  to  leave  India  without 
seeing  more  of  the  work  than  was  embraced  in  the 
limits  of  Lucknow,  and,  too,  he  hoped  it  might  be  a 
distraction  to  his  wife.  She  had  little  packing  to  do, 
as  now  she  had  no  interest  in  all  the  pretty  Indian 
embroidery  and  bric-a-brac.  Perhaps  it  was  as  well 
she  had  not,  for  the  allowance  she  had  planned  had 
been  overdrawn,  and  she  did  not  like  to  think  of  the 
inroads  that  had  been  made  on  the  bank  account  or 
that  would  be  made  by  the  extra  tour ;  but  she  said 
nothing.  It  did  not  really  matter — nothing  really 
mattered.  Life  could  never  be  aught  but  a  continued 
pain,  for  a  shadow  had  fallen  on  her  which  never 
would  be  dispersed  until  pierced  by  the  glory  of  the 
Only-begotten  of  the  Father  which  was  before  the 
world  bewail. 

™ 

So  they  went  to  Shahjehanpoor  and  saw  the  orphan 
boys  learning  trades  by  which  to  support  themselves 
and  their  families  ;  saw  the  girls'  school,  where  the 
children  of  native  Christians  of  the  remote  districts 
are  gathered,  then  hurried  on  to  Budaon  and  sa\v 
village  work  and  the  schools  ;  then  on  to  Bareilly  to 
see  the  theological  school,  from  which  yearly  many 
fully  qualified  preachers  and  teachers  are  sent  out  and 
scattered  up  and  down  India  ;  saw  the  school  for  the 
wives  of  these  same  students  where  they  are  taught 
by  the  precept  and  example  of  the  wife  of  the  good 


368  THK  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

president  to  be  fit  helpmeets  to  their  husbands,  to 
feel  that  they  have  a  calling  and  a  work  no  less  sacred 
and  obligatory  and  precious  than  that  of  their  hus 
bands ;  saw  the  great  girls'  orphanage,  moving  in  or 
derly  systematic  lines,  from  which  will  come  women 
for  the  future  body  of  the  Church ;  saw  the  medical 
work  and  the  dispensary  where  are  given  medicine  for 
the  body  and  the  word  of  life  for  the  souls  of  the  poor 
women  who  throng  the  place  daily  ;  saw  the  native 
church,  the  boys'  day  schools  and  the  girls'  day  schools. 
Then  on  to  Moradabad,  where  perhaps  all  conditions 
combine  for  a  model  mission — a  city  compact  and 
not  too  large;  strong,  faithful  missionaries,  who  have 
had  twenty -five  years  of  steady,  hard,  wise  work,  and 
where  the  progress  of  the  surrounding  country  has 
kept  in  line  with  that  of  the  central  town ;  where 
schools  with  pastor-teachers,  founded  by  the  wise  gen 
erosity  of  one  liberal  man,  have  uplifted  the  peasant 
population  and  made  them  ready  to  receive  the  direct 
preaching  when  it  could  be  given  to  them  ;  with  the 
girls'  and  boys'  high  schools,  and  a  church  organized, 
self-respectful  and  wide-awake,  with  its  flourishing 
Ep worth  League,  its  Woman's  Missionary  Society,  its 
Sunday  school,  its  class  and  prayer  meetings. 

The  Bishop  gave  up  his  last  struggle  for  entire 
evangelical   work  when   he  saw  this.     He   saw  that 

O 

while  he  and  the  other  powers  of  the  Church  had 
been  thinking  of  mission  work  forever  being  mission 
work — thinking  of  it  as  a  jellyfish  sort  of  thing — 
a  Church  with  frame  and  backbone  and  articulation 
had  been  growing.  When  he  found  an  enthusiastic 
circle  of  young  people  looking  forward  to  the  Ep- 
worth  League  night  and  preparing  for  debates  and 


HOME  AGAIX.  369 

essays  and  recitations  ;  when  lie  heard  the  reports  of  the 
various  committees  on  work,  and  all  the  regular  rou 
tine  of  that  wonderful  organization;  when  he  attended 
the  woman's  missionary  meeting- and  saw  the  president 
in  her  chuddar  presiding  with  the  usual  ease  and  grace 
ever  predicated  of  lady  presidents — saw  all  the  machin 
ery  of  a  Christian  community  moving  ()n  \vith  a  spirit 
of  earnestness  and  business,  he  said  to  himself :  "I  have 
been  dreaming.  I  thought  Lucknow  was  an  excep 
tional  place,  but  I  find  in  each  place  I  visit  the  same 
or  even  more  exceptional  qualities." 

Mrs.  Clinton  saw  a  part  of  the  work  he  was  not  al 
lowed  to  see — the  zenana  and  day  school  work ;  but  it 
io  all  chronicled  in  the  annual  reports  of  the  woman's 
work  ;  all  that  they  saw  in  the  various  stations,  and  there 
also  are  many  things  told  that  they  did  not  see. 

Then  he  wished  to  go  on  to  Agra  and  Delhi  and 
Jeypore,  but  the  missionaries  at  Moradabad  said  they 
were  not  done  with  him  yet.  He  must  go  to  the  an 
nual  Christian  fair,  held  at  Chandausi.  And  again 
Mrs.  Clinton  acquiesced.  She  was  glad  to  find  her 
husband  could  be  interested,  glad  that  there  was  any 
thing  to  lift  his  mind  off  the  terrible  visions  of  the 
suffering  child  that  never  for  a  moment  left  her. 
Sometimes  she  talked  feverishly,  hoping  to  forget  it, 
feeling  that  only  by  keeping  her  mind  off  of  it,  keep 
ing  the  picture  of  her  child's  sufferings  out  of  her 
mind,  would  she  be  saved  from  madness.  Other 
times  she  gave  up  to  it,  finding  the  effort  to  fight  it 
too  much,  and  yet  in  all  this  she  did  not  murmur. 
She  felt  that  even  though  it  might  have  been  a  mis 
take  to  take  Lillian  to  the  zenana  God  haci  allowed 
it  all  to  be  done,  and  some  way,  some  way  that  shg 


370  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION: 

could  not  see,  he  could  bring  good  out  of  it;  but  she 
had  this  terrible  thought  always  before  her,  that  the 
particular  suffering  Lillian  had  gone  through  would 
have  been  saved  had  she  not  proposed  coming,  or  had 
she  acquiesced  when  her  husband  had  in  a  desperate 
moment  proposed  going  back.  It  was  an  ever-haunt 
ing  suggestion,  a  double-edged  dagger,  ever  thrusting 
itself  anew  into  her  heart ;  but  trying  to  bring  a  little 
good  out  of  it  all,  trying  to  save  the  remnant  of  her 
life,  she  made  an  effort  to  be  interested  in  all  she 
saw,  to  remember  everything,  that  she  might  tell 
them  at  home ;  tried  to  stamp  on  her  mind  the  face 
and  name,  as  well  as  the  plans,  thoughts,  and  devo 
tion,  of  each  zenana  teacher,  each  school  superintend 
ent,  each  lady  doctor,  each  missionary's  wife,  that  she 
might,  when  stronger,  when  God  would  give  her  spir 
itual  and  mental  and  physical  life  again,  tell  all  to  the 
dear,  hard-working  ladies  at  home,  no  less  hard-work 
ing  and  self-sacrificing  than  many  who  had  come,  but 
it  was  dreary,  and  almost,  though  not  quite,  hopeless 
work.  She  hardly  seemed  to  notice  the  change  from 
one  station  to  another,  and  one  day  she  found  they 
were  at  a  native  Christian  fair,  or  inela,  which  in 
character  corresponds  to  the  American  camp  meeting. 

Think  of  long  lines  of  straw  tents,  in  front  of  each 
a  little  fire,  from  which  the  blue  smoke  curled  up 
against  the  pale  gold  of  the  straw;  on  the  fires  sinn 
ing  brass  vase-shaped  cooking-pots ;  around  the  fires 
women  in  red  or  green  or  purple  chuddars,  white  oxen 
grazing  near,  and  the  air  full  of  the  spicy  smell  of 
cooking  curry  powder ;  beyond  the  straw  tents  a  few 
white  tents,  where  the  missionaries  were  encamped. 

Here  were  gathered  together  over  two  thousand 


HOME  AGAIN.  371 

Christians  for  the  annual  fair — Christians  isolated 
from  regular  church  services  who  had  looked  forward 
to  this  time  for  the  acquiring  of  a  deeper  spiritual  life. 

And  when  Bishop  Clinton  stood  on  the  platform  at 
the  first  service — stood  beside  the  missionary  bishop, 
the  little  but  mighty  man,  above  whom  he"  loomed 
like  a  giant — and  looked  out  over  the  mass  of  people 
of  another  language  and  nationality,  but  of  the  same 
religion,  other  tints  of  complexion,  but  with  the  same 
heart  of  love  for  God  and  their  fellow-men — saw  this 
missionary  bishop,  who  shoulders  responsibilities 
enough  for  ten  bishops,  move  these  thousands  as  one 
man — he  got  still  another  up-lift  in  his  hope  for  and 
belief  in  the  India  Mission. 

When  he  heard  him  say  that  black  would  be  white 
and  the  Ganges  would  flow  backward  and  Christianity 
would  become  the  national  religion,  both  of  Moham 
medans  and  Hindoos ;  that  even  now  the  work  of  the 
Christian  Church  had  become  indigenous  and  would 
propagate  itself,  even  if  their  efforts  were  put  forth 
to  stop  it  instead  of  to  carry  it  forward  ;  that  while 
baptisms  had  numbered  this  year  nineteen  thousand 
— nearly  three  times  those  of  any  previous  year — 
and  he  expected  the  following  year  the  same  ratio  of 
increase  if  men  and  money  were  provided  to  justify 
the  procedure — when  Bishop  Clinton  heard  all  this 
and  saw  that  great  mass  of  Christians — Christians  only 
because  of  sacrifice,  first  of  Christ  and  afterward  of 
his  followers  who  were  full  enough  of  love  to  lay  aside 
all  minor  considerations  and  determine  to  know  only 
one  thing,  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  live  and  let  that  one 
thing  show  forth  through  all  their  lives — when  he 
saw  this  mass  of  people  rise  and  as  with  one  voice  sing 


372  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

the  doxology,  because  of  their  leader's  enthusiastic 
prophecy,  in  faith  believing  that  things  even  greater 
than  they  hoped  for  would  be  done,  he  joined  in 
that  song  of  triumph  without  for  a  moment  noticing 
that  he  sang  the  words  in  English  and  they  sang  them 
in  Ilindoostanee.  After  all,  what  are  words  but  the  ex 
pressions  of  our  thoughts,  and  the  thought  \vas  the  same 
and  expressed  in  the  grand  movement  of  the  old  tune 
that  one  expects  to  hear  sung  by  angelic  choirs  when 
time  shall  be  no  more,  when  literally  "  every  knee 
shall  bow  and  every  tongue  confess." 

While  the  glow  of  this  enthusiasm  was  on  their 
faces,  and  in  the  joyful  hush  that  followed  this  out 
burst  of  praise,  Carnton  and  Sidney  emerged  from 
the  crowd,  and  in  the  Ilindoostanee  marriage  service, 
which  is  only  a  translation  of  our  own,  were  married. 
This  was  not  unexpected  to  the  missionaries. 

Sidney  had  said  the  memory  of  all  Lillian  and  her 
mother  had  suffered  was  too  fresh  and  too  much  asso 
ciated  with  everything  in  Lucknow  to  make  her 
happy  in  being  married  there,  and  yet  she  wanted 
Mrs.  Clinton  to  be  present  at  her  marriage,  and  so  it 
had  finally  come  about  that,  as  she  was  coming  to 
Chandausi  to  see  Mrs.  Clinton  once  more,  that  Carnton 
had  persuaded  her  to  let  the  ceremony  be  there. 

She  was  in  a  fresh,  simple  dress  and  bonnet,  and  he 
in  the  ordinary  dark  morning  suit  usually  worn  by 
men  in  the  cold  weather. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  in  work  among  the 
Indian  people  is  debt,  and  generally  debt  contracted 
for  wedding  expenses,  which  must  always  be  on  an 
extravagant  scale,  and  handicaps  many  a  family  for 
years,  and  even  for  generations,  the  debts  being 


HOME  AGAIN.  373 

handed  down.  So  for  the  sake  of  the  influence  of 
example  Sidney  put  aside  the  impulse  to  array  her 
self  in  fair  and  shining  raiment,  and  Carnton,  well 
pleased,  was  deeply  thankful  that  his  life  was  to  be 
spent  with  one  so  willing  to  give  up  everything  for 
the  people  they  both  loved. 

That  evening  as  they  stood  at  the  door  of  their 
tent,  watching  the  sun  like  a  ball  of  fire  through  the 
dust-covered  mango  trees,  they  saw  an  ox-cart  full  of 
native  people  coming  slowly  into  the  camp-ground. 
Some  way  their  attention  was  attracted  as  it  stopped 
and  the  women  and  children  began  to  scramble  out. 
"  It  is  always  a  fresh  surprise  to  me,"  said  Carnton,  "  to 
see  how  many  people  a  native  conveyance  can  hold." 

Sidney  did  not  hear.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  ene 
little  woman  in  a  red  sari,  who  had  left  the  group  and 
was  coming  swiftly  toward  them.  In  a  moment  she 
was  sobbing  in  Sidney's  arms,  and  Sidney  was  crying, 

"Do  you  not  see?   It  is  Sitara,  my  own  little  Sitara!" 

Carnton,  hardly  less  moved  than  Sidney,  exclaimed, 

"Sitara!  Then  she  is  still  alive,  and  not  gone  to 
her  husband  as  we  feared  and  hoped  !  " 

Sitara  it  was,  indeed,  alive  and  well,  though  thin 
and  with  an  expression  of  patient  resignation  that  was 
not  on  her  face  when  Sidney  had  known  her  before. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Miss  Sahib,"  in  answer  to  their 
eager  inquiries,  "  God  is  good  to  let  me  again  see 
your  face,  and  he  has  cared  for  me  as  you  said  he 
would.  Waziran,  the  old  woman  who  was  with  us, 
fled  with  me  that  same  night  after  we  were  in  court, 
and  we  went  back  to  our  own  village  and  to  the 
mother  of  Shew  Pershad's  cousins.  There  was  ever 
an  unkind  feeling  between  the  mother  of  Shew  Per- 


374:  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

shad  and  the  mother  of  his  cousins,  and  she  was  well 
pleased  that  I  came  to  her  for  refuge.  She  is  getting 
old,  and  her  sons  are  away,  and  it  was  so  that  I  could 
make  her  food  as  she  liked  it,  and  I  stayed  on,  but 
ever  hoping  to  return  to  Lucknow  when  there  might 
be  an  opportunity.  There  were  some  Christians,  and 
when  I  could  I  talked  with  them,  but  not  often. 
They  always  said,  'Wait  for  this  mela,  and  then  you 
will  come  with  us  and  find  your  friend  ; '  but  my 
heart  was  always  heavy,  and  I  feared ;  but  God  is  good, 
and  notwithstanding  my  fears  I  am  with  you  again. 
And  never  once  did  I  forget  to  pray  to  him  morn 
ing  and  night,  and  never  once  did  I  bow  to  those 
idiotic  images  which  my  people  worship;  and  Wa/i- 
ran  is  also  with  me,  and  will  bo  as  I  am,  a  Christian." 
The  world  was  full  of  songs  of  joy  for  Sidney. 
Never  till  this  moment  had  she  known  just  how  heavy 
a  burden  had  been  the  memory  of  Sitara  and  all 
thoughts  of  her.  The  sting  of  it  all  was  fear,  fear 
that  had  she  herself  been  wiser  or  more  capable  it 
would  have  turned  out  better — that  perhaps  some 
one  older  or  more  experienced  would  have  saved 
the  girl  from  the  dark  fate  which  she  always  be 
lieved  had  overtaken  the  poor  little  tiling.  Now  that 
burden  was  gone,  and  she  began  to  feel  that  life  was  too 
full  of  joy,  too  bright  to  last — that  it  could  hardly  be 
right  that  she  should  be  singled  out  for  so  much  hap 
piness;  and  she  looked  from  Sitara  to  Carnton  hardly 
less  glad  than  she,  as  though  she  feared  they  might 
vanish  from  her  sight  while  she  was  looking. 

A  few  months  later  the  Bishop,  once  mure  in  his 
own  native  land,  stood  in  a  large  hall,  looking  over 


HOME  AGAIN.  375 

the  eager  audience  that  was  packed  nearly  to  the 
ceiling. 

Before  lie  had  left  America  on  his  tour  of  inspec 
tion  he  had  said  little  of  his  purpose,  thinking  if  he 
found  all  that  unkindly  critics  had  said  to  be  true  it 
would  be  well  to  have  as  little  talk  about  his  going 
as  possible ;  but  some  way  the  news  had  gone  until 
there  was  a  general  interest  throughout  the  Church 
in  their  expedition.  He  had  written  to  no  papers,  he 
had  had  no  communications  with  the  Board  of  Bishops 
or  of  Missions  ;  so  there  was  even  among  them,  though 
boards  arc  not  expected  to  have  curiosity,  a  good  deal 
of  this  vulgar  quality,  and  it  was  very  active  as  to  the 
discoveries  he  had  made  and  the  conclusions  to  which 
he  had'  come. 

The  report  of  Lillian's  death  by  smallpox  had  come 
and  insensibly  put  a  sterner  aspect  on  his  mission,  a 
graver  interest  in  his  proceedings,  and  when  news  went 
around  from  church  to  church  of  the  city  where  Avas 
his  home  that  the  Bishop  would  answer  the  hundreds 
of  letters  of  inquiry  he  had  received  in  public,  at  the 
Monday  meeting  of  preachers,  there  was  no  lack  of 
people  early  on  hand,  though  the  meeting  had  been 
appointed  in  the  largest  audience  room  in  the  city. 

Mrs.  Clinton  could  not  come.  She  said  to  him  that 
later  on  she  would  do  her  own  share,  and  promised 
many  parlor  talks  and  even  addresses  to  small  audi 
ences,  but  she  could  not  bear  it  yet ;  she  was  not  quite 
recovered  enough  from  the  shock  of  meeting  her  sons 
and  of  settling  in  her  old  home  without  Lillian. 

The  Bishop  looked  anxiously  at  her.  Sometimes 
there  was  a  chill  at  his  heart  and  he  had  a  dread  that 
he  had  not  yet  paid  the  full  price  of  his  experiment. 


3T6  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

"  Xo,  dear,"  the  said,  answering  his  look,  i;I  am 
well,  and  I  shall  be  better  now  that  we  are  settled  here, 
and  then  the  boys  are  such  comforts.  They  seem  to 
have  grown  into  men  since  we  left  them.  And  do  you 
know  what  Fred  said  to  me  last  night  ?  "We  were 
talking  of  Lillian  and  her  love  for  the  people  of  India, 
and  he  said,  '  Mother,  I  have  always  thought  of  going 
as  a  missionary,  and  more  than  ever  now  I  mean  to  do 
so.  I  will  do  what  Lillian  would  have  done.'  "  This 
coming  from  Fred,  the  incorrigible,  the  one  of  the 
three  who  was  fullest  of  fun  and  life,  the  one  about 
whom  they  had  had  misgivings,  was  something  of  a  sur 
prise  to  his  father,  and,  perhaps,  not  altogether  a  pleas 
ant  surprise.  He  was  prepared  to  urge  young  men, 
other  people's  sons,  to  go  out  to  this  great  work — even 
prepared  to  urge  middle-aged  men  to  go;  but  when  it 
came  to  his  own  sons,  in  whom  he  had  much  pride  and 
hope,  he  felt  it  to  be  a  severe  test  of  the  new  interest 
in  and  love  for  missions  that  he  had  acquired. 

lie  said  impatiently  to  himself  that  it  seemed 
that  they  were  never  to  be  done  with  the  consequences 
of  their  trip  to  India;  that  it  would  pursue  them  to 
the  end  of  their  days  in  one  shape  or  another.  And 
he  was  right.  "Who  thinks  he  can  take  a  year  out  of 
his  life  and  give  it  to  one  thing,  whether  a  worthy 
cause  or  not,  and  then  return,  nntrammeled  by  any 
thing  the  year  has  builded,  to  his  old  routine,  to  his 
old  life,  has  not  yet  learned  the  first  principles  of  liv 
ing — has  yet  to  learn  that  his  life  is  a  sacred  thing 
with  which  he  cannot  trine,  and  that  each  important 
break  or  plan  is  fraught  with  consequences  from  which 
he  cannot  escape,  try  as  he  may. 

One  other  consequence,  and  one  which  he  did  not 


HOME  AGAIN:  377 

regret,  was  his  power  to  shape  public  opinion,  for  he 
was  a  just,  true  man,  and  he  felt  he  could  use  this  as 
a  lever  to  move  the  Church  to  a  true  estimate  of  its 
responsibility.  But  when  he  stood  before  this  great, 
eager,  self-satisfied,  comfortable  audience  a  revulsion 
came  over  him  for  a  moment,  and  there  is  not  one  of 
all  that  number  that  will  ever  forget  that  moment. 
They  were  so  well  dressed — the  women  in  fresh  spring 
costumes,  with  dainty  gloves  and  pleasant  smiles,  the 
men  in  well-fitting,  stylish  suits — all  so  eager  for  some 
thing  interesting,  something  thrilling,  and  so  little 
comprehending  the  seriousness  of  the  message  he  had 
for  them,  that  he  was  stirred  to  anger  and  almost 
contempt,  and  he  felt  he  could  turn  and  rend  them. 
An  audience  is  like  a  dog — it  likes  you  better  if  you 
wlii})  it,  provided  you  do  not  whip  it  too  hard;  and 
the  Bishop  stopped  short  of  making  his  castigation 
too  hard,  though  some  began  to  fear  he  would  not. 

They  were  all  there  that  he  wanted  to  see  and 
wanted  to  reach — all  the  people  who  had  been 
to  India  as  well  as  those  who  had  not  been  to 
India  :  the  tourist  architectural,  who  saw  more  in  a 
Saracenic  tomb  than  in  a  mud  mission  schoolhouse ; 
the  sightseer,  who  had  not  time  when  in  India  to  see 
missions,  but  who  now  would  be  glad  to  listen  to  any 
thing  of  that  strange,  interesting  country;  there,  also, 
\va>  the,  traveler  whose  mental  eyes  had  double  convex 
lenses  and  could  see  around  corners;  the  critical 
personage  who  considered  green  pease  in  February  a 
sin,  but  who  could  not  wait  to  sec  what  he  would  have 
paid  for  them  in  June;  the  one  who  thought  the  lirst 
duty  of  missions  was  to  clothe  the  people;  and  there 
was  also  the  optimist,  who  saw  good  in  everything,  and 


3T8  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 


breathed  hope  and  encouragement  wherever  lie 
went.  They  had  all  seen  India  in  the  short  three 
months  of  cool  weather,  and  the  missionaries  remained 
in  their  minds  as  people  to  be  envied  if  they  them 
selves  only  could  see  the  advantages  of  their  surround 
ings.  Of  course,  they  knew  that  there  was  another 
side  to  the  question,  nine  months  in  the  year,  but  itM'as 
indefinite  in  their  minds,  and  apt  to  be  forgotten. 

Besides  these  there  was  the  gentleman  who  had 
sent  the  circular  letter  to  the  missionaries  asking  for 
photographs  of  their  houses,  and  another  person  in  au 
thority  who  would  give  missionaries  the  best  of  every 
thing  going,  and  then  say  it  was  not  good  enough. 
There,  too,  were  the  hard-working  ';  ladies  at  home,'' 

/  7  O  ' 

devoted,  earnest  women,  going  with  their  hearts  in 
their  mouths,  fearful  of  hearing  something  derogatory 
to  a  work  as  dear  to  their  hearts  as  though  they, 
too,  had  given  up  for  its  sake  home  and  friends. 
And  there  were  their  daughters,  and  there  were  their 
nieces,  coming  on  to  take  the  elder  ladies'  places  on 
committees  and  as  presidents  and  secretaries. 

As  the  Bishop  eyed  them  a  moment  before  he  be 
gan  an  ironical  smile  was  on  his  face,  for  like  a  flash, 
after  taking  them  all  in,  his  mind  went  back  to  those 
exiles  in  that  far-off  land  which  at  that  moment  was 
being  swept  by  scorching,  sand-laden  winds,  to  dark 
ened  houses  where  men  and  women  were  working 
with  the  odds  of  life  and  health  against  them:  lan 
guid,  homesick  women,  whose  hearts  were  aching 
for  a  sight  of  the  old  home-land,  and  the  sound  of 
running  streams  and  familiar  voices;  palefaced  little 
children,  whose  brain  must  ever  be  dulled  by  the  fact 
of  their  birth  in  that  weary  land;  men  fearing  each 


TIoMK     Al.AI.V  .".T1.' 

\veek  and  each  month  might  be  the  last  they  could 
have  to  work  for  (iod,  and  still  toiling  bravely  on. 
And  the  absurdity  of  these  comfortable,  happy, 
well-dressed  people,  who  were  enjoying  a  free  govern 
ment  and  a  Christian  civilization,  sitting  in  judgment 
on  those  others,  pointed  the  arrows  he  let  fly. 

Just  what  he  said  can  never  be  told,  but  he  put  the 
two  phases  of  life  before  them,  the  two  pictures  as 
they  were  presented  to  his  mind,  showing  them  the 
contrast,  and  then  he  turned  the  vials  of  his  wrath 
upon  them  for  daring  to  criticise  people  who  had 
given  up  what  they  would  not  give  up — people  who 
were  living  lives  that  they  would  not  be  willing  to  live. 

Then  he  went  down  and  fished  up  their  motives  and 
showed  them  that  the  fact  of  their  giving  one  dollar  a 
year,  or  subscribing  to  a  missionary  journal,  or  going 
t:>  a  missionary  prayer  meeting  when  it  did  not  rain, 
or  when  thev  had  no  other  engagement,  did  not 

«/  o    o 

entitle  them  to  demand  their  pound  of  flesh  in  the 
sufferings  and  cruel  experiences  of  people  whose  wild 
est  dissipation  was  a  missionary  conference  once  in 
three  months  and  a  garden  party  once  in  three  years. 

He  told  them  that  as  they  had  come  to  hear  criticism 
they  should  hear  it,  not  where  they  expected,  but  it 
should  be  on  themselves  ;  on  them  because  he  knew 
where  they  stood,  knew  what  was  in  their  minds,  for 
only  a  little  over  a  year  ago  he  had  been  where  they 
were,  thought  as  they  thought,  and  felt  as  they  felt; 
and  he  knew  they  would  forgive  him  for  saying  it 
because  he  had  himself  in  mind  more  than  them,  and 
he  was  lashing  himself  over  their  shoulders. 

"I  repeat."  he  said,  *"  I  have  had  myself  in  my 
mind  more  than  you,  while  speaking — I,  myself,  as  I 


380  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

was — and  that  I  am  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  holding 
myself  up  to  myself.  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago, 
and  yet  ages  seem  to  have  passed ;  or  perhaps  more 
truly  I  might  say  that  I  am  another  man  ;  for  I  can 
never  go  on  in  the  old  selfish  round  again,  bound  up 
in  the  temporal  Church,  bound  up  in  my  own  success, 
living  for  the  worldly  advancement  of  my  own  inter 
ests.  Perhaps  those  of  you  who  have  known  me  best 
may  be  kind  enough  to  say  that  I  have  not  been  emi 
nent  in  the  pursuit  of  my  own  interests;  perhaps  you 
may  see  no  great  difference  ;  but  I  know  what  it  means 
to  be  emptied  of  self,  since  I  have  seen  it  among  these 
people  I  went  to  criticise.  I  know  what  it  is,  and  I 
know  that  it  is  possible  in  this  our  land,  as  well  as 
in  that  deadly  place.  Do  not  think  that  I  found 
there,  and  mean  to  hold  up  to  you,  any  '  perfect  men 
sublime,'  or  'women  winged  before  their  time.' 
They  may  live  somewhere,  but  perhaps  they  are  no 
more  common  in  India  than  other  places.  Great 
natures  have  great  faults,  so  the  man  who  is  great 
enough  to  put  aside  all  ambition  and  everything  that 
is  commonly  believed  to  make  life  attractive,  and  live 
for  people  who  are  unconscious  of  the  sacrifice  made 
in  their  favor,  may  have  great  imperfections.  But 
that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  work  one  way  or  an 
other.  I  shall  now  tell  you  a  little  of  what  I  have  seen. 
If  any  of  you  know  how  to  put  the  experiences  of  one 
year  into  a  half-hour  I  will  sit  at  his  feet  and  learn." 

But  perhaps  he  knew,  though  the  half-hour  length 
ened  to  one  hour  and  a  half,  and  still  his  hearers 
were  not  weary.  lie  plainly  told  them  of  the  doubt 
of  the  wisdom  and  good  faith  and  courage  of  those  in 
the  field  that  led  to  his  going;  of  the  difficulty  he 


HOME  AGAIN.  381 

had  at  first  of  making  his  methods  coincide  with 
those  of  the  missionaries ;  of  his  surprise  at  the  size 
and  extent  of  the  mission  ;  of  his  criticism  of  methods  ; 
of  the  absorbing  interest  of  a  work  where  so  many 
doors  were  open  that  the  only  difficulty  was  to  choose 
which  one  should  he  entered  ;  of  the  deadly  climate, 
emphasized  by  constant  and  never-failing  contagion 
and  infection;  of  the  rushing  on  of  the  evangelical 
work,  bearing  fruit  in  a  night  like  Jonah's  gourd;  of 
the  slower  and  more  permanent  school  and  literary 
and  other  organic  work ;  of  his  objections  to  many 
things,  and  of  his  gradual  swinging  round  to  believ 
ing  that,  after  all,  though  not  perfect,  perhaps  the 
whole  plan  was  as  nearly  so  as  could  be  expected  in  a 
mis-ioir  a  little  over  thirty  years  old.  Then  he  told 
them  of  their  own  part  in  it  all ;  that  because  of  their 
prayers  and  their  money  and  their  interest  and  love  for 
missions  this  had  all  come  about ;  that  it  was  their  own 
work,  and,  as  such,  they  were  responsible  for  the  salva 
tion  of  the  thousands  who  were  so  ready  to  be  taught. 
'•  There  is,"  he  said,  "a  policy  or  plan  in  the  minds 
of  the  far-seeing  ones  that  is  widespread  and  com 
prehensive.  They  understand  the  tremendous  respon 
sibility  we  have  as  a  Church,  and  that  it  is  an  abso 
lute  command  'to  go  into  all  the  world.'  We  as  a 
Church  dare  not  shrink  from  the  responsibility  of 
taking  India  for  Christ.  It  is  ready  to  be  taken  as 
soon  as  the  Church  understands  her  obligation  and 
ceases  to  regard  it  as  a  matter  of  inclination,  or  as 
a  side  issue,  or  something  that,  depends  on  impulse. 
She  must  call  on  those  that  have  trumpets,  at  their 
peril,  to  give  no  uncertain  sound,  for  the  time  has 
passed  when  she  can  say,  'I  will  or  I  will  not  plant  a 


382  THE  BISHOP'S  CONVERSION. 

mission  in  that  land.'  She  has  planted  and  Apollos 
has  watered,  and  now  that  the  increase  is  so  great  that 
she  finds  trouble  in  caring  for  it  she  must  not  falter 
and  quibble  about  trifles. 

"  One  superintendent  of  one  district  alone  reports 
ten  thousand  inquirers — that  is,  ten  thousand  men  who 
have  found  paganism  inadequate  for  their  needs,  ten 
thousand  men  who  have  heard  of  a  God,  just  and 
pure,  who  can  save  them  from  their  sins;  and  friends, 
dear  friends,  what  shall  we  answer  in  that  great  and 
solemn  day  when  they  say,  '  AVe  would  have  served 
God  and  not  Rain,  only  there  was  no  one  to  lead  us 
or  even  to  point  the  way  \ ' 

"  What  shall  we  say  when  it  is  said  to  us  that  had  we 
not  failed  in  our  duty,  those  suffering,  dying  thousands 
would  have  gone  joyfully  to  meet  a  loving  Father? 
This,  dear  friends,  is  the  point,  this  is  the  thing  we 
must  think  of,  and  not  whether  missionaries  suffer 
more  or  less.  Their  heroism,  their  sufferings,  their 
exposure  to  dangers,  their  isolation,  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  There  is  this  side  of  the  question,  and,  per 
haps  unfortunately,  people  wanting  money  for  mis 
sions  have  found  that  it  is  easier  to  appeal  to  your 
sympathy  than  to  your  responsibility  as  servants  of 
the  living  God  and  as  coworkers  with  him.  There 
is  this  side  of  the  question,  and  God  forbid  that  their 
dangers  or  sufferings  be  any  greater. 

"  Let  me  forever  set  you  at  rest  on  this.  Perhaps 
it  was  meant  that  I  should  be  fully  qualified  to  speak 
on  this  point;"  his  voice  wavered  and  friends  in 
the  audience  feared  he  had  begun  something  lie  would 
find  difficulty  in  finishing;  but  he  rallied  and  went 
on.  "And  yet  I  have  only  known  the  everyday  life 


HoMK     Ac.AIX.  383 

of  the  ordinary  missionary,  and  in  some  respects  I 
was  mercifully  spared.  My  wife  and  myself  escaped  "' 
— again  lie  faltered — ''and  are  left  to  care  together  for 
our  boys.  Others  have  been  less  fortunate.  Even 
since  I  left,  a  mother,  as  well  as  her  child,  has  been 
stricken  and  three  little  children  are  left  without  her 
tender  care.  Another,  comparatively  young,  forever 
isolated  from  her  friends,  will  labor  among  lepers, 
because  through  the  exigencies  of  mission  work  that 
dread  disease  has  come  to  her;  and  Mackenzie  and 
Miller,  the  men  I  worked  with  and  who  were  the 
first  to  greet  me,  have  gone  down.  First,  Mackenzie, 
doing  two  men's  work  without  the  bodily  strength  of 
one,  after  a  few  hours'  illness,  was  snatched  away  by 
cholera.  When  I  heard  that  the  light  had  gone  from 
his  genial  eyes,  that  the  kindly,  generous  hand  was  for 
ever  still,  a  picture  was  presented  to  my  mind  of  him 
as  he  stood  one  morning  in  the  church,  describing  the 
device  on  a  missionary  paper,  of  an  ox  standing  with 
a  plow  at  his  right,  an  altar  at  his  left,  and  of  Macken 
zie's  saying, '  This  device  represents  my  thought  in  be 
ing  here  in  this  work.  I  am  ready  for  either  work  or 
sacrifice.  If  it  be  the  former  only  I  shall  be  glad;  if 
it  be  the  latter,  as  I  sometimes  have  felt  it  will  be,  I 
am  content  and  can  say,  God's  will  be  done.' 

"And  Miller,  when  urged  to  leave  his  work  and  try 
the  effect  of  the  home  climate  in  prolonging  his  life, 
said,  with  the  gentle  heroism  ever  characteristic  of 
him,  'Xo,  it  is  better  to  die  in  the  harness.' 

"And,  friends,  the  bitter  thought  to  me  is  that 
while  my  own  short  service  in  India  cost  me  so  dear, 
yet  I  did  not  see  what  the  core  of  the  trial  of  mission 
life  was  until  it  came  home  to  me  in  the  loss  of  my 


384  THE  Bisnor's  CONVERSION. 

own  dear  little  lamb.  Xot  till  then  did  I  understand 
the  sacrifice  they  make  who  live  in  that  terrible  land 
— in  that  sweet  land  :  terrible  because  it  has  bereaved 
me  of  my  friends  and  my  child  ;  tweet  because  it  has 
become  their  last  resting-place. 

"And  I  say  to  you,  do  not  dare,  as  I  did,  to  deny  the 
heroism  of  the  lives  of  those  who  still  live  and  toil 
there,  nor  of  those  who  have  died  to  prove  it. 

"  O,  wild  hot  winds,  sweeping  over  those  brave  ones 
who  have  died  for  a  cause  they  loved  better  than  long 
life,  touch  lightly,  we  pray  you,  the  sacred  sand  that 
lies  above  them,  and  had  you  a  known  voice  and  lan 
guage  I  would  pray  you  ever  through  all  the  coming 
years  to  tell  all  men,  not  only  in  that  far,  sad  land,  but 
throughout  the  whole  world,  of  the  love  they  had  for 
humanity,  of  their  brave,  unfaltering  work,  of  their 
unwavering  trust  in  God  and  in  his  Son,  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  I  would  pray  you  tell  them  how,  un- 
inurmuring,  they  went  down  in  the  strife,  how  cour 
ageously  they  died  in  the  harness,  and  I  would  have 
you  beg  others  to  keep  their  lives  before  them  as 
beacon  lights  to  lighten  their  way  when  it  seems 
darkest,  and  I  would  beg  you  to  tell  those  people  for 
whom  they  died  to  remember  that  a  double  responsi 
bility  rests  on  them  to  emulate  their  work  and  their 
sacrifice,  and  to  believe,  as  I  have  come  to  believe: 

" '  Alike  are  life  and  death, 
When  life  in  deatli  survives, 
And  the  uninterrupted  breath 
Inspires  a  thousand  lives.'  " 

THE    END. 


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